


Fragments

by BlueVase



Category: Call the Midwife
Genre: F/M, Gen, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2018-11-09 08:09:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 87
Words: 22,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11100477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueVase/pseuds/BlueVase
Summary: A series based on a Tumblr challenge. People suggest a ship+the first sentence, and the writer has to provide the next five sentences.TW: none, I thinkNOTE: I've rated this 'm' because it contains some steamy fragments, but by most far of them are suitable for general audiences.





	1. Chapter 1

**Suggested by: Beatrix-Franklin.**

**"Patrick if you keeping eating THAT i'm afraid i'm going to have to refuse to kiss you."**

Patrick looked up from the plate of sardines he had been eating and raised an eyebrow. “You do know that fish is very healthy?”  
“I don’t care about the nutritinal value of those slimy little…”  
Patrick was beside her in a heartbeat, his arms around her and the tips of their noses touching. “I don’t need my mouth to kiss you, dearest,” he said, and rubbed his nose against hers.


	2. Chapter 2

**Suggested by: Anonymous**

**Shelagh/Patrick : "It's a date then"**

“Taking Sister Monica Joan to see the dentist can hardly be qualified as a date, even if you take me along for moral support, Shelagh.”

Shelagh flashed an almost predatory smile at her husband and slung her arm around his neck, drawing his face close to hers. “You only say that because you’ve never seen Sister Monica Joan at the dentist, but I can assure you that it will be extremely entertaining. Besides, we’ll have the entire afternoon off, and I have some very good plans on how to fill that extra time.” To demonstrate what she meant, she kissed Patrick, swallowing every word of protest that bubbled from his lungs till he could do nothing but look forward to their ‘date’.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Suggested by: Anonymous.**

**Phyllis finding our Shelagh was a nun. Sorry, I Can't think of a sentence.**

Nurse Crane looked like she had just been smacked in the face, or if she had witnessed something so mind-boggling that it defied further analysis. Or, Trixie reflected, this was just her usual thinking face, since it was not too different from her customary scowl.

“Do you mean to say that Mrs. Turner was a nun?” Nurse Crane said, words clipped and sharp like spiked things.

“Yes, that is what I meant to say, actually,” Trixie said, trying to hide the smile that was begging to frame her mouth, “and a highly qualified midwife, too.” She resisted the urge to add that Shelagh might very well be more qualified than Nurse Crane; she felt that learning what Nurse Crane looked like when her face was a mask of ire was better saved for another day.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Suggested by: Anonymous. Trixie and Shelagh talk after she spent the night with them when Timothy was in the hospital . "I know you have a new life now,but I really miss you".**

_“I know you have a new life now,but I really miss you,”_ Trixie said, taking Shelagh’s hand in hers and giving it a soft squeeze.

Shelagh, still feeling raw and emotional from the discovery that Timothy had been dreadfully ill - _and you didn’t notice, you didn’t see a thing, being so wrapped up in your own silly worries-_ felt her eyes burn with unshed tears.

She placed her other hand on top of Trixie’s, briefly wondering how the young nurse managed to keep her skin so soft and pink, before saying: “I didn’t mean to push you away, Trixie, please believe that.”

“Everything is just going to be so very different now, isn’t it?” Trixie murmured, her own baby-blue eyes brimming with tears.

“Some things will be different, but others will remain the same; you didn’t think I wanted anyone but you and the other nurses as my bridesmaids, now did you?” she said, making the decision in a heartbeat and promising herself not to look back.

Trixie hugged the other woman close to her, and spoke the truth in a few simple words: “Oh sweetie, it’s simply going to be different and strange and marvelous, isn’t it?”

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Suggested by: Anonymous. Turnadette -- Timothy quips about Sister Bernadette and Patrick getting together or something when the three of them (and maybe Trixie) are in the same room.**

“But Dad, it is not as if you and Sister Bernadette are dating or something!” Timothy quipped.

Trixie stood at the hatch of the kitchen of the Parish Hall and had a perfect view the doctor, his little boy, and Sister Bernadette.

The atmosphere changed, became thick and stilted and charged with something Trixie had no words for.

Sister Bernadette’s face had become flushed, and she looked at the floor, folding and unfolding her hands like Trixie did with the never-diminishing pile of nappies near her, whilst Doctor Turner scraped his throat and carded a hand through his hair. 

Timothy must have noticed that he said something wrong, because he apologised immediately, looking almost as if he was on the point of tears.

“It’s alright, son, we know it was just a joke,” Doctor Turner said, gently leading the boy away, but suddenly, Trixie was not so sure.

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Suggested by: Anonymous. Timothy wonders how Shelagh can love all three kids the same. "How can you love me the same when I'm not yours?"**

_“How can you love me the same when I’m not yours?”_ Timothy asked, not quite meeting her eye.

Shelagh felt her throat go thick, pulled him into a hug - Patrick would say their son was too old for that now, but she found that a stupid idea, because how could anyone ever be too old for a hug?- and fought against the tears that clung, trembling, to her lashes.

She knew that the young man she now held had once had shown her what she could be, if she stopped living on the periphery of life and dared to embrace the love that pulsed through her veins and ached to get out, and felt her chest constrict at the idea he now doubted her love for him.

Her heart had split, and a part of it was be inhabited by his gentle soul, just as other parts belonged to Angela and Teddy, till -as Patrick believed- the organ would stop beating, or -as she herself believed-, till the end of time.

“Oh, Timothy, dearest, love is not a cake; it doesn’t get halved when we share it. My heart belongs to you just as much as it belongs to your siblings,” she said, and hugged him as tight as she could to show him just how much she loved him, knowing that every hug was but a grain of sand on the ever-growing beach of her devotion to her children. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These have been a ton of fun to do! Feel free to send me more.


	7. Chapter 7

**Suggested by beatrix-franklin: "I'm sorry Doctor, I really didn't mean to do that" Sister Bernadette, because classic Turnadette is fun to write!**

_“I’m sorry Doctor, I really didn’t mean to do that,”_ Sister Bernadette whispered, eyes half-closed to keep the tears that burned behind her lids from overflowing.

She had not meant to show him her feelings, had not meant to break her vows by acting on those feelings, and had _certainly_ not meant to do so by kissing him over a box of spirit lamps.

 _You silly girl,_ she told herself, and felt how the tears she had meant to keep inside coursed down her cheeks, fogging up her glasses.

Doctor Turner sighed, and pulled her into his embrace, enveloping her with his arms and his scent and his warmth, making her realise that they were a perfect fit, she just small enough for him to rest his chin on the top of her head, and he broad enough to feel like home. 

She clung to him, dripping salty tears on his jumper, and wondered quietly why she, unlike those spirit lamps that still stood beside them, could burn so bright, even though her cheeks were damp.


	8. Chapter 8

**By Anonymous. Turnadette "Should I be jealous?"**

Patrick looked up and saw Shelagh stand in the doorway, one eyebrow cocked and a smile ghosting around her mouth. 

He took Teddy’s little hand between his thumb and forefinger and brought it to his mouth, kissing the chubby folds where his wrist became palm.

“Do you think mommy should be jealous, Teddy boy?” he asked, looking at his son smile -his eyes were still the midnight blue of all new-borns, and Patrick secretely hoped they would stay like that, would stay like Shelagh’s eyes- and pressed a kiss to the tiny nose.

Shelagh hugged his chest, and he slung an arm around her to keep her close, pressing an absent-minded kiss on her nose, too.

“No, I don’t think I have anything to be jealous about, after all,” she said and smiled, and looked so endearingly like their little boy that Patrick had to kiss her again.


	9. Chapter 9

**Requested by Anonymous. Trixie/Christopher :). "I can't believe I'm sneaking into a convent!"**

 “Yes, well, the nuns are preferable to your landlady, Christopher, and I am simply no longer content with the occasional snog,” Trixie hissed, peering around the corner to make sure the coast was clear.

“What happens if anyone sees me?” Christopher asked, unable to keep the excitement out of his voice.

“I think Sister Julienne might have a heart attack; Sister Monica Joan will probably run away to fetch cake to bid you welcome, or she might scream that you won’t get what remains of her teeth, and run; Sister Winifred is either going to squeal and clap her hands, or faint, or both; as for the other nurses…”

“They will probably tell you to have a good time but don’t do anything foolish, kids,” Nurse Crane’s voice said, startingly loud in the silent convent halls.

Trixie whipped around, nearly toppling over in the process, and was just in time to see Phyllis give her a huge wink before slipping back into her own room.


	10. Chapter 10

**Requested by: Anonymous. Christopher to Phyllis on his way out one morning. "It's not what it looks like"**

**A/N: Got inspired by[@beatrix-franklin](https://tmblr.co/mo8ed_m2auKlFTOzRaZG3xw)‘s [fic in which she mentions something similar happening to Shelagh ;)](http://beatrix-franklin.tumblr.com/post/161472381122/trixie-teasing-shelagh-the-day-after-turnadette)**

_“It’s not what it looks like,”_ Christopher said, blushing a deep scarlet and repressing the urge to shift his weight from one leg to the other, like he used to do when he was still a little boy; he could hardly help it, though, because of the look the woman -Phyllis Crane, wasn’t it?- gave him.

“Then what am I supposed to make of this?” she said, gesturing to his dishevelled clothing and pointing a finger at the not-so innocent lipstick stain on his shirt, just above his sternum.

“I told you kids not to do anything stupid,” she added, lips pursed so much that they formed a cirlce hardly larger than a penny.

Then she sighed, and shook her head, before giving him something that looked a bit like a smile, and saying: “Well, at least we know that Nurse Franklin has an excellent set of teeth, which is just one of her many assets.”

Christopher realised only later that Nurse Crane was talking about the bite mark Trixie had left just underneath his jaw, and felt himself blush crimson again.


	11. Chapter 11

**Requested by: Anonymous. Patrick trying to give the 'talk' to Timothy and/or Timothy being a protective big brother to a teenage Angela :)**

(1) Patrick trying to give the ‘talk’ to Timothy.

“Listen, Timothy, I think it is time for me to give you some advice, from man to man, regarding some of the facts of life,” Patrick said, unable to keep a smirk from his face.

Timothy got a sinking feeling in his stomach; he knew what this was going to be about, and if the words had not been clue enough, the joy of anticipation that lit up his father’s face- Patrick loved  embarrassing his son- left no doubt in Timothy’s mind.

“I am the son of a doctor and a midwife, dad; I am pretty sure I know the mechanics, and don’t need a lecture,” Timothy mumbled.

“Don’t think of it as a lecture, but as… I don’t know, tips, perhaps?” Patrick gave a saucy wink. “After all, I did manage to seduce a nun out of her habit…”

“Yes, well, mum tells that story a bit differently, and claims it was her who seduced you out of your lab coat,” Timothy said, and left his father looking puzzled and decidedly less jaunty.

(2) Timothy being a big protective brother to a teenage Angela.

“Ange, do you have to?” Timothy asked his little sister -not so little anymore, practically an adult, really- as she came in.

Her cheeks were flushed and her lips slightly swollen from snogging the boy next door, which did not prevent her from pursing them and saying: “Doing what, Timothy?”

“You know what. I don’t want people to think that you…”

Angela brought her face very close to his, eyes flashing and lips curled into something very close to a snarl. “Strictly speaking I don’t have to, no, but it keeps you embarrassed and that keeps me entertained,” she whispered, then gave him a quick peck on the cheek and danced away, laughing.

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Requested by: purple-roses-words-and-love. Prompt: Sister Julienne to Shelagh: "He has your eyes."**

_“He has your eyes,”_ Sister Julienne said, touching the fuzzy down on Teddy’s head with her fingertips.

“We don’t know that yet, Sister; they might still turn dark, and become Patrick’s hazel,” Shelagh said, blushing and smiling at the same time.

She did not understand why she felt so very pleased with the idea that Teddy had her eyes, and briefly wondered if it was pride, or greed, to want to see a bit of herself reflected in her child.

“No, I don’t think so, Shelagh; they are already lighter than they were a few days ago,” Sister Julienne remarked, still not looking at her former sister, still hypnotised by Teddy’s luminous eyes.

“I… I think I would like that,” Shelagh admitted, kneeling next to the nun and bringing her mouth to Teddy’s chubby hand to kiss it.

Teddy closed his eyes in delight, and Shelagh realised that it was alright for her to want her baby to have her eyes, because his smile was decidedly Patrick’s

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Anonymous asked: Since you like bold Shelagh so much: Turnadette on their honeymoon - "Can't believe I just did that!"**

**A bit of steam, guys.**

_“I can’t believe I just did that!”_ Shelagh said, hands against her flushed cheeks and eyes large.

“Yes, well, still waters run deep, and all that,” Patrick said, hugging her from behind and pressing kisses against her shoulder blades, tasting salt on his tongue.

“Do you mean you expected that I…” Shelagh made a movement with her hand meant to encompass every kiss, every touch, every breath they had just shared.

“I have to admit that I knew there was a woman underneath the habit long before I had any right to think that, but when you came to me in my dreams, you could not stop reminding me,” Patrick said, touching a bite mark he had left underneath her earlobe with his fingertips.  “Besides, you grew up in the country side, surrounded by horses, and that left me with the firm suspicion that you would know how to ride.”

“Patrick, that is not at all a polite thing to say,” she said in her best Sister-Bernadette-voice, but she turned around and softly took his bottom lip between her teeth, and he knew she really didn’t mind at all.

 


	14. Chapter 14

**Requested by: Marialujan22. Sister Julienne and Phyllis pushing that car in the snow**

**[ I thought it was Sister Winifred and Phyllis on the photo, but I like to see the combination of Sister Julienne and Phyllis, so I’ll roll with it, pun intended ;)]**

“This winter is colder than… a witch’s teat,” Phyllis grunted as she gave the car another shove.

The wheels moaned and the car rolled a bit further, the snow crunching and crackling like wrapping paper, never mind that it wasn’t Christmas yet.

“I don’t know how we’ll cope if this goes on another week, let alone another month,” she continued.

Sister Julienne sighed, her breath leaving her mouth like steam and curling around her wimple before falling apart. “We’ll need a different way of transportation, maybe donkeys,” she said, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

“I think I prefer a sleigh and reindeer,” Phyllis said, and her customary scowl turned into a a smile so full of mirth that Sister Julienne, who was rarely seen to really smile, returned it in full.

 


	15. Chapter 15

**Requested by: Anonymous. Phyllis helping Barbara get ready on her wedding day**

**A/N: Jeej some more Phyllis :D! I know I say that she scowls a lot, but we all know she’s a big softie at heart ;). Last ask I received guys, so I’ll try to go out with a bang. Had tremendous amounts of fun with this!**

To say that Phyllis had expected to grow into spinsterhood was an exaggeration, but, deep down, she had never been able to imagine herself as a wife, either.

She had been raised by women, and found men puzzling creatures; there was no doubt that they were useful, sometimes charming, at rare times even comforting, but, on a whole, she found them to be vastly overrated.

Sadly, her inability to be what she felt a wife should be also meant that she had to let go of her wish to be a mother.

 _But only in the traditional sense of the word,_ Phyllis thought, and though her eyes were moist, her mouth stretched into a smile as she tucked a strand of hair behind Barbara’s ear.

The young woman glowed with happiness, her eyes shiny as stars, the hood of her cape full and fluffy around her face like a halo; Phyllis could imagine how the glass-stained and marble saints in the church would look at her with a mixture of adoration and envy as she made her way down the aisle.

In that moment, she felt the pride and sadness she imagined a mother might feel when she realised her little girl had all grown up, squeezed Barbara’s hand, and asked: “Ready?”

 


	16. Chapter 16

**Requested by: beatrix-franklin."Are you sure the Nun's didn't see us?" {Patsy and Delia} because I don't think you've written this pairing yet!**

**(yes guys still doing these as long as they keep coming in). I haven’t done them, but Pupcake seems like a lot of fun ;)**

_“Are you sure the Nun’s didn’t see us?”_ Patsy whispered, her brows knitted in concern.

Delia couldn’t prevent a smile from framing her mouth and squeezed her girlfriend’s hand. “Pats, I honestly don’t think the nuns care about me visiting your room, and if they ask, I can tell them that I came to borrow a Bible or something.”

Patsy had to press a hand against her mouth to stop the bark of laughter that bubbled up from her lungs from escaping. “You are the least likely person I know to ask anyone for a Bible, Deels,” she said as soon as she felt in reasonable control of herself again.

“I have read my share of Bible chapters, darling,” Delia said, and to prove how right she was, she quoted: “Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sin,” before kissing Patsy deeply.

 


	17. Chapter 17

**Requested by: beatrix-franklin. "Patrick Turner we are not keeping this Puppy. Teddy is barely six months old and Angela is only just three, we won't cope!" {Turnadette, just a little bit of fun** **}**

“Patrick Turner we are not keeping this Puppy. Teddy is barely six months old and Angela is only just three, we won’t cope!”

Patrick looked up from the fluffy dog that was chewing contently on his fingers to see his wife with her hands planted firmly on her hips and her mouth pursed in her usual I-am-not-going-to-discuss-this-we-are-simply-going-to-do-what-I-say way.

“But Shelagh, having a dog is healthy for the children, and it will give us a reason to exercise, and just look at it!” he whined, pulling the puppy on his lap and fondling its ears.

“And who is going to walk this dog, and train it, and feed it? No, Patrick, we can’t keep this dog, and you know it; but I know someone who might like to have a her,” Shelagh said.

X

“Do we take care of dogs now as well as babies?” Trixie asked as Sister Monica Joan floated past her, holding an adorable puppy swaddled in one of her many knitted blankets.

“The Turners have asked me to raise and love this particularly handsome specimen of the _canis lupus familiaris,_ nurse Franklin. Never fear; this dog and I think completely alike on all matters, and will stay away from your dental surgeon,” Sister Monica Joan said, holding her head high.

“But not the cake tin, I’d wagger,” Trixie muttered under her breath, a smile playing around her lips. 

**Cheating but don’t care ;P**

 


	18. Chapter 18

**Requested by: Beth, via Ff.net. ‘Trixie meets Alexandra’s mother for the first time”.**

 

Trixie wiped her sweaty palms on her skirt and tried to breathe steadily.

“Don’t be so nervous, darling,” Christopher whispered as he steered her towards a little table in the corner of the restaurant, one hand on her shoulder, the other in the small of her back.

“That’s easy for you to say; you don’t have to meet any of my exes,” she murmured, wriggling her toes in her new pair of heels to shake the pins-and-needles feeling she always got in her feet when she was nervous.

She sat down with her hands in her lap, wringing them and trying to remember not to chew her nails; she had bought a new nail polish for this occasion, called ‘when lovers meet’, and suddenly wondered whether that name alone should have warned her not to pick it.

A tall woman with a stylish pixie cut and a pair of gloves she nervously passed from hand to hand entered the restaurant, looked around, found Trixie and Christopher, smiled a tight smile, and made her way to them.

 _She’s just as nervous as I am_ , Trixie realised, and the pins-and-needles feeling fell away as she pushed her chair back; she extended a hand that was still a bit damp to take Cecilia’s slender one, squeezed it, smiled, and said: “I am Beatrix, but my friends call me Trixie.”


	19. Chapter 19

**Requested by: Anonymous. “Patrick Turner put me down this instant!”**

_“Patrick Turner, put me down this instant!”_ Shelagh yelled, trying to wriggle away, but her husband had her slung over his shoulder and anchored her firmly with one arm in the crook of her knees, the weight of her upper body preventing her from sliding off.

“Not a chance, love,” he growled, carrying her upstairs. “Timothy has his chemistry club, Angela is absolutely worn out after playing hide-and-seek with me for the past hour, and you have been driving me mad all day,” he said, kicking the bedroom door open and depositing his wife on the bed with a thud.

Shelagh guessed she had dressed…. a little more provocatively than usual that morning, picking the cornflower blue dress with the scooped hemline, and pairing it with a high heels she had been wearing on and off the past few days to ensure they would be comfortable if she wanted to wear them for longer stretches of time.

“The whisper of your stockings… your perfume… that way you have of smiling with the tip of your tongue between your teeth…” Patrick said, trailing a path of kisses along her neck and nipping the skin underneath her ear, drawing a moan from her.

“Patrick, you’re going to see that bitemark for days,” Shelagh chastized him, but she didn’t mind, not really; in her heart, she had already been branded as his, and that mark would never pale, never faint, never fade.

 


	20. Chapter 20

**Requested by: purple-roses-words-and-love. Prompt: Shelagh to Sister Julienne "I love you" (In a maternal/familial/ non romantic sense) I'm seen some fics where Sister J says this to Shelagh but never the other way around so... have fun Friend <3 lol :)**

**A/N: Not gonna lie, I kind of struggled with this one. I picked the conversation between Shelagh and Sister Julienne after Timothy has been diagnosed with Polio as the backdrop for these sentences.**

“I love you,” Shelagh whispered, clinging to Sister Julienne, shuddering as grief tore through her.

Sister Julienne rocked her slowly, like she would have with a child, even though she knew that she was holding a woman and not a girl. “And I love you to, my dear, and I don’t want you to doubt it ever again.”

“I thought I had found the right road when I gave in to my love for Patrick, but the loneliness didn’t fade away completely, and I was blind, blind to your affection, and blind to your needs, and blind to Timothy’s illness,” Shelagh confessed, the sentence sprinkled with sobs.

“But you are on the right road, Shelagh, and if you did not see it then, your eyes have been opened now,” Sister Julienne said, and wiped some tears from Shelagh’s cheeks with her fingertips.

“Oh God, I love you, sister,” Shelagh said, and no more words were needed, because that sentence said it all.

 


	21. Chapter 21

**Suggested by: Inspoartist.**

**I’ve decided to use these as prompts (that come** **from[this post) ](http://sincerelygeertje.tumblr.com/post/161763760196/prompt-list)for ** **the 5 sentence fic idea, if that’s OK. These are all for Turnadette.**

 

 _1 “We’re not just friends and you fucking know it,”_ Patrick says, unable to keep a mixture of passion and anger and longing out of his voice.

Sister Bernadette blinks slowly, lips parting slightly to allow the gasp of shock to leave her lungs, and for a moment Patrick thinks she will slap him, or shout, or cry.

She surprises him by closing the space between them, hooking her fingers behind his ears, pulling his face so close that the tips of their noses touch, and whispering: “What are we, if we are not just friends, doctor? Do you want us to be lovers?”

He answers by hauling her against him, one hand on the small of her back, the other pushing her wimple and cap off, revealing that there is a woman of flesh and blood underneath, one whose breath quickens as he devours her mouth, who moans as his hands start to wander, who…

Patrick wakes gasping, heart beating and body humming, and can’t stop himself from weeping with shame; he wants her, he needs her, he loves her so…

_29 “Do you want to kiss as bad as I do right now?”_ Shelagh asks, flopping down heavily on the couch and snuggling up beside her husband.

Angela has reached the phase of toddler rebellion and doesn’t want to sleep, Teddy is teething and has been out of sorts all day, and Timothy has been grumpy and gives dirty looks to whoever tries to find out what exactly is ailing him (a girl, Shelagh thinks, but has decided not to risk her life asking).

Shelagh loves her family, loves her life, but at moments like this, she wishes her duties were restricted to midwifery, nursing, and looking after the children when they are all smiles and laughter instead of tears and frowns.

“Is my darling wife in need of a good cuddle?” Patrick asks, rubbing her sore back with his agile fingers as Shelagh rests her head on his chest, sighing and breathing in his scent of aftershave and soap and something that is all his own.

“I’m in need of a little bit of love,” she admits, tilting her head up so she can look at him, placing a hand on his face and letting her fingers fan out, temporarily smoothing away the little worry lines that are permanently etched in his skin.

He touches her lips with his, gently, softly, like they have done so often before, causing all thoughts of teething infants and anarchistic toddlers and lovesick teenagers to flee her mind; at moments like this, she knows that her duties include loving her husband, and that is not a duty at all, but a privilege, and she adores it.

_41 “How can you still look so attractive while crying?”_ Patrick asks, kneeling in front of his sniffling wife.

“I don’t look attractive whilst crying at all, Patrick,” she says, taking her glasses off with one hand and using the other to wipe away her tears, balancing her book precariously on her belly, swollen with eight months pregnancy.

He smiles, fishes his handkerchief out of his pocket, and gently dabs at her cheeks.

“That good?” he asks, picking up the book and placing it on the coffee table.

“Oh, you’ll just think me silly, Patrick, to get all blubbery over a story, but I think it’s just the hormones, really,” she says, taking his handkerchief and blowing her nose in a decidedly unladylike fashion that makes him grin.

“No, darling, you are simply a creature of empathy, which is why I love you as much as I do,” Patrick says, pressing a kiss to her hand, which causes Shelagh to smile; it’s like the sun peeking through the clouds, and that is another reason why he loves her, too.


	22. Chapter 22

**Suggested by: colorful-magical-thing.Shelagh/Trixie #20** **20 “I think you’re just afraid to be happy,”:)**

**Now, let’s get straight into the feels, shall we?**

_20 “I think you’re just afraid to be happy,”_ Shelagh says, voice gentle but firm.

Trixie’s blue eyes - eyes that many a doll would be jealous of, Shelagh can’t help but think- snap up and meet hers.

“Do you really think that?” she asks, bringing her hand to her mouth and tearing at her nails nervously, chipping the pink polish Shelagh knows she so painstakingly applies.

Shelagh takes Trixie’s hand and guides it away from her lips, rubbing it between her own hands in an effort to get the blood flowing again, to chase away the coldness of fear and worry.

“Yes, I think that, Trixie, and I want you to stop it, because you are kind, and strong, and intelligent, and you deserve to be loved; I’m not saying you should accept Christopher’s marriage proposal, but please don’t refuse it because you think yourself unworthy.”

“Oh dear, you’ve made me look like a panda,” Trixie sniffs, dabbing at the tracks of mascara trailing down her cheeks, but she smiles a little, and her hands are no longer cold.

 


	23. Chapter 23

**Suggested by: Anonymous**

**8 “Why are you so jealous?”**

**32 “You’re blushing!”**

**40 “You’re so fucking adorable,”**

**Maybe I just have a dirty mind, but I felt that the last two of these prompts would be best handled by me with some steam.**

 

 _8 “Why are you so jealous?”_ Patrick whines, cradling Teddy and holding him out of Shelagh’s reach.

She plants her hands on her hips, raises her eyebrows, and says: “Jealous, Patrick?”

“I am just having a bit of Daddy-son bonding time, and there you are, ready to whisk Teddy away again, ready to monopolise his love,” Patrick sighs dramatically and flops on his back, holding his son above his head and making silly faces at the baby.

“Really, you should have chosen to be an actor, not a doctor,” Shelagh says, lying down on the bed.

Patrick places Teddy on his chest and puts an arm around his wife, allowing her to snuggle up to him and rest her head on his chest, too, before whispering: “I’m a bit jealous of our baby boy, too, because he gets all your love.”

Shelagh smiles and takes Teddy’s hand in hers, kissing his fingers, his palm, the back of his hand, then propping herself up on her elbows so her face is close to Patricks and she can kiss him, too; after all, there is always more love to give.

 

 _32 “You’re blushing!”_ Shelagh exclaims, laughing as the colour on Patrick’s cheeks becomes a pretty crimson.

“Yes, well, I simply didn’t expect you to… it was all rather new, and… I thought that nuns of all people…” Patrick stammers.

“You are a very wicked woman, Mrs. Turner,” he concludes, pouting his lips and frowning a little.

She pushes him back against the covers, bending over to kiss him softly, placing his hands on her hips, sighing as his thumbs trace over the sharp angles of her hips to the softness of her belly.

“I love you, and if that is wicked, I’d rather be sinful than good,” she confesses.

“Oh well, I didn’t marry a nun, I married a woman of flesh and blood and one who knows how to ride, now didn’t I?” Patrick says, placing a kiss on the dip between her collar bones, grinning against the soft flesh of her throat as he notices that his wife’s cheeks are flushed now, too.

_40 “You’re so fucking adorable,”_ Shelagh slurs, eyes feverishly bright with alcohol.

Patrick winces as the rude word leaves her mouth; he has never heard his wife swear like this before, not even when their lovemaking gets really intense and she employs a rich vocabulary of Scottish curses that he always has to ask her to clarify later.

“Yes, well, and you are really drunk, love,” he says, catching her as she trips in her effort to hug him.

She sighs contently and buries her nose in his neck, squeezing his buttocks with the hand that isn’t carding through his hair.

“Shall we go upstairs?” she whispers, nearly falling and dragging Patrick with her as she tilts her head back to look at him and wiggle her eyebrows suggestively.

“Good idea,” Patrick says, carrying her upstairs and depositing her on the bathroom floor, which earns him another colourful insult that he will be sure to ask her to explain to him when she is sober, and has the good graces to blush whilst she says it.

 


	24. Chapter 24

**Suggested by: Anonymous. 36 “Is that my shirt?”**

 

 _“Is that my shirt?”_ Shelagh asks, blinking rapidly a few times as if to clear her vision from the strange picture she sees: Patrick is wearing one of her blouses.

It is too small for him, not reaching past his belly button and hanging open, the fabric of the sleeves straining against Patrick’s broad shoulders and upper arms.

“I’ve decided to try and wear one of your shirts when you are gone, like you do with mine, to see if it helps with the feelings of loneliness and the acute missing of my favourite human being in the whole wide world,” Patrick explains, trying to look serious but failing miserably due to the pastel pink frills that float around his midriff.

“Does it work?” Shelagh ask, pressing a hand against her mouth to stifle the bubbling laughter that threatens to burst from her lungs.

“Well, you look extremely sexy when you wear my shirt, but judging by your face, I don’t look like the picture of male virility when I wear yours,” he says, opening his arms to her, causing the fabric to make ominous ripping sounds.

“I prefer you without a shirt, anyway,” Shelagh laughs, and helps him to wrestle out of her blouse.


	25. Chapter 25

**Suggested by: Anonymous. 24: “You’re so fucking hot when you’re mad” and 25:“You’re mine. I don’t share”.  Possibly with alcohol involved.  
I do love these prompts but the word ‘fucking’ makes me a bit nervous because honestly, can we even imagine Turnadette saying it, like, ever? But I will try and make it plausible, guys**.

 

 _24: “You’re so fucking hot when you’re mad,”_ Patrick mumbles, trying to draw Shelagh close to kiss her, smelling of alcohol and aftershave.

She nimbly ducks under his reaching arms and pushes him back on the bed, brows furrowed and lips pursed, and says: “You are a filthy-minded, filthy-mouthed drunkard, Patrick Turner, and you’re a filthy liar, too; you said you would only have one beer.”

“Well, you didn’t specify if it was one bottle, or one barrel,” Patrick slurs, and laughs at his own joke.

“Shut up, or you’ll wake the baby, and I don’t care if you’ve been given an award and decided to celebrate by drinking yourself into oblivion with other doctors who no doubt put you up to it, because honestly you don’t normally drink and I know that, whilst I was at home looking after the children, because I will throw you out, and let you sleep it off in your car,” she hisses, pulling off his socks and wringing them in their hands as if they are personally responsible for the state her husband is currently in.

“Oh please don’t be _that_ angry with me, I can’t stand it,” Patrick whines, eyes filling with tears as he clumsily strokes her cheek.

“You are an absolute idiot, Patrick,” Shelagh sighs, but she gives him a soft kiss on his forehead anyway, knowing that the hangover tomorrow combined with a screaming Teddy, a yelling Angela and a door-banging Timothy will probably be punishment enough.  

_25: “You’re mine. I don’t share,”_ Patrick says, grabbing Angela when she tries to get away to give her mother a hug.

“Daddy, ew!” she squeals, trying to push him away as he peppers her face with wet kisses.

“Patrick, you are terribly possessive,” Shelagh chides him, rescuing her daughter from another attack of sloppy kisses and taking her upstairs to make her ready for bed.

When she comes downstairs, Patrick is waiting for her, pulling her on his lap and hugging her tight to him.

“Possessive,” Shelagh softly scolds him as he gently bites her throat, sucking a bruise that will bloom blue and purple and will have to be hidden with high collars or scarves.

She doesn’t mind, though, because despite what he claims, Patrick gives his love freely, and shares and shares and shares.


	26. Chapter 26

**Requested by: Anonymous. No15 Shelagh to Trixie after she has a fight with Christopher.**

**I’ve made this into a fic that’s a bit longer, because I think this was an interesting topic that deserved a little more depth.**

_15: “Stop pretending you’re okay, cause I know you’re not,”_ Shelagh said, putting a china cup with delicate flowers and a matching saucer down in front of Trixie.

The young nurse put a cube of sugar in the tea and played around with her spoon so as not make eye contact; she didn’t want Shelagh to see that she was close to tears, _again._

“Trixie, there is no shame in being hurt after a fight, and it is alright not to be alright for a little while,” Shelagh said softly.

“I didn’t want others to notice, didn’t want others to see,” Trixie whispered, curling her hands around her cup of tea, “because what if they think: oh, there she goes again, wrecking another relationship? They look at me, they all look at me, and think I’m a flirt, or a tease, and then they look at Christopher, and I can see them wonder: what does such an intelligent man want with her?”

“Oh, Trixie,” Shelagh said, pain lacing her voice. “I know how mean people can be. I know how it feels when they talk about you, and look at you, and think they know you from a few glances, a few snippets of conversation. But they should not influence any decision you make.” She looked out of the window as she continued. “Patrick and I have had our share of fights, too. I didn’t want anyone to see, either, because what if they thought that we hadn’t made a success out of our marriage? I’d already become a beloved topic of gossip, and I couldn’t stand the idea that they would find fault with me, or with Patrick.”

“I’m sorry,” Trixie said, putting her spoon down and grabbing Shelagh’s hand. “I’m sorry that they said those nasty things about you, sweetie, and I’m sorry you felt you couldn’t speak to any of us when things weren’t…. right between you and Doctor Turner.”

Shelagh gave her a small smile. “The thing is, Trixie, that I was so worried about what other people thought that I stopped thinking about what I wanted, about what I needed. And that is not good. I am in a relationship with Patrick, not with the gossipers of Poplar. And you know something else that I learned? It is perfectly alright to have fights, and disagreements. We are all human beings, and we can’t always agree on everything. Now, you do have to speak to each other about why that fight happened, and make sure there is no lingering hurt. A fight doesn’t have to mean the end of a relationship.”

“I am just afraid of what people will say and think,” Trixie admitted.

“Let them talk, Trixie, and let them think those vile thoughts. You matter. Christopher matters. Those people? They don’t matter at all.”

Trixie dabbed at her eyes with a frilly handkerchief, but smiled. “Thank you, Shelagh. I think I needed this,” she said.

“Come here, you,” Shelagh said, and enveloped Trixie in a hug.

Their tea went cold, but that didn’t matter, either.


	27. Chapter 27

**Requested by: Anonymous. 15: “Well, this is awkward,” for Shrixie.**

 

 _15: “Well, this is awkward,”_ Trixie broke the silence, fiddling with the buckle of her belt so as to give her hands something to do and her eyes something to focus on other than the spectacle in front of her.

Shelagh would put a tomato to shame with that blush; Trixie thought that was a normal reaction to having your colleague walk in on you whilst you sat on your husband’s lap, devouring his mouth, whilst his hands found their way underneath your uniform and stroked and tweaked and did whatever else hands that belonged to married people did when they thought they could have an uninterrupted ‘lunch’ break.

“Rather,” Doctor Turner said, turning his back to her as he tried to button up his shirt, revealing that he had a smear of lipstick underneath his ear.

“Excuse me,” Shelagh said, smoothing a fold out of her skirt and trying to get past Trixie to reach the toilets.

“Aren’t you a naughty nurse,” Trixie whispered, giving her a wink, “And your skirt is stuck in your knickers.”

Shelagh blushed an even deeper shade of crimson, but managed a tight smile as she said: “See this as an educational experience for you and your dentist, Nurse Franklin,” leaving Trixie with the fiercest blush of all.

 

**Reviews are always appreciated ;).**


	28. Chapter 28

**Requested by: Anonymous. Timothy/Angela: 9 “Where do you think you’re going?”**

 

 _9: “Where do you think you’re going?”_ Timothy flicked on the lamp beside the chair he was in and raised his eyebrows, his stern look an exact copy of that of Patrick.

Angela yelped, then froze, waiting to see if anyone upstairs had heard her, but when no one came, she slowly exhaled, turned to Timothy, and said: “What are you _doing_ here, in the middle of the night?”

“No no, that’s not how this works, little sister; you are the one all dolled up, wearing a miniskirt and lipstick and trying to sneak out of the house, guilty as a sinner in church.”

“Yes, well, Timothy, not every teenager behaves like mom did when she was young, alright?” Angela snapped, folding her arms over her chest and looking dangerously like Shelagh with her pursed lips and glittering eyes.

“You still haven’t answered my question, Ange, so I’ll do it for you: you’re going upstairs, wash your face, and get back into bed before our parents see you and suffer a heart attack,” Timothy suggested.

“I think I’ll do it so you won’t have to sit up all night worrying, you old worry-wart, but only this once,” she laughed, and kissed his cheek, smearing it with lipstick.


	29. Chapter 29

**Requested by: marialujan22. Turnadette, 10: “Just leave me alone.”**

_10: “Just leave me alone,”_ Sister Bernadette whispers, shoulders hunched and hands clasped.

She looks – not _broken,_ never that, Patrick thinks – hurt, or defeated.

“I’m sorry,” he says, hating how his throat grows thick and the urge to reach out and envelope her in his arms is so strong that it could drive him to his knees if he’d let it, but he’s already allowed his feelings to run away with him today, and it has hurt the one person in the world he cannot bear to see hurting.

“I’m not,” Sister Bernadette confesses, turning to him so he can see her moist eyes, and her trembling lip, “I’m not sorry, and that confuses me.”

“I’m not sorry for kissing you, and I fear I can never be sorry for it, but I am sorry, so dreadfully sorry, for having hurt you, and confused you,” Patrick says, and turns away from her, ready to grant her the solitude she asked for, but her hand on his shoulder causes his nerves to sing, and smoulder, and he stops dead in his tracks as she snakes her arms around him and places her cheek against his back, causing the nerves there to burn as her breath passes through the layers of clothing and reaches his skin.

“I don’t think I want to be alone anymore,” she murmurs, and he takes her in his arms, resting his chin on the top of her head, breathing her scent, and the loneliness that dogs his every step leaves him for a blessed moment.


	30. Chapter 30

**Requested by: Anonymous. Trixie and Christopher. 19:  “I think I’m in love with you, and that scares the crap out of me”.**

 

 _19: “I think I’m in love with you, and that scares the crap out of me,”_ Christopher blurts out.

Trixie lowers her doll eyes, causing her lashes to throw feathery shadows on the strip of skin that is neither eyelid nor cheek, and asks in her usual sweet voice: “Why does it scare you?”

“Because it happened once before, and I broke my ex-wife’s heart, and I could not forgive myself if I hurt you like that,” he confesses.

She takes his hand and places it on her breast so that he can feel her heartbeat, and says: “My heart sometimes skips a beat, or stammers, or stutters, or flutters, but it won’t break. And if it does: it is flesh and blood, and will knit itself together again, to proudly display the mark you left on it.”

Christopher knows in that moment that he has fallen for this brave, intelligent, beautiful woman, is falling still, but he’s no longer afraid; there is only love.


	31. Chapter 31

**Requested by: Anonymous. Barbara and Tom, 42: “I’m pregnant!”**

_“I’m pregnant!”_ Barbara whispered, excitement and nerves stealing her breath away.

Tom’s eyes became large as saucers before his face split in the biggest grin Barbara had ever seen. “We’re going to be parents?” he asked, but didn’t wait for an answer, opting for a kiss that left her even more light-headed instead.

“Do promise me you won’t place any bets on the baby’s gender,” Barbara said, trying to look serious but failing because the corners of her mouth refused to turn down.

“Maybe you’ll have twins, a boy and a girl, if I bet, just so that God can teach me a lesson,” Tom said, resting his forehead against that of his wife, studying her soft eyes.

“Now you’re just being greedy, my fallible man of God,” she whispered, and loved that after three years of marriage he still blushed happily when she talked about him as hers.


	32. Chapter 32

**Requested by: Anonymous. Trixie and Christopher, 42: “I’m pregnant!”.**

_“I’m pregnant!”_ Trixie murmured in Christopher’s ear.

She could feel his heartbeat speed up under her hand, like it had done an hour ago when she had told him dressed only in pink underwear that she had a surprise for him, and that they ought to celebrate.

Christopher propped himself up on his elbows, studying her intently, tracing the curve of her throat absentmindedly with his fingertips, and asked: “Are you sure?”

Trixie got a sinking feeling in her stomach and felt tears burn behind her eyelids as she asked: “Are you angry with me?”

“Trixie, you can be a bit daft for such an intelligent woman; don’t you realise you’ve made me the happiest of men, and continue to do so every day?” he asked, voice gentle, tenderly tracing her belly, making her shiver in delight.

“In that case we might as well celebrate a little more,” she whispered, and kissed him again and again and again, like she had done an hour ago.

 


	33. Chapter 33

**Requested by: Anonymous. What about the return of Bold Girl with #17(“Bite me”) and #28 (“Make me”)?**

**A/N: Well I have to admit that I’ve a terrible weakness for our Bold Girl, anon, so here we go. Full steam ahead.**

_17: “Bite me,”_ Shelagh whispers, the breathy words followed by a sigh that might very well be one of the most erotic sounds Patrick has ever heard.

He grins before placing a sloppy kiss in the hollow of her collar bones, trailing a finger down between her breasts to her navel, causing her to shiver in delight, before murmuring: “Bite you, darling?”

“You’ve already branded my heart with your name; you might as well mark me as yours on the outside," she breathes, looking at him from between her lashes, an action that is strangely innocent yet charged with sensuality.

“What about this ring you wear, hm?” Patrick asks, taking her hand in his, bringing it to his mouth, and kissing every finger in turn, flicking his tongue against her fingertips till she sighs softly again.

“This is not a discussion, Patrick Turner,” she chides him, taking his face between her hands and guiding it to her porcelain throat.

He obediently grazes his teeth over her pulse point, because he loves nothing more than giving her what she wants; she has written her name on his heart, too.

 

 _18: “Make me,”_ Shelagh says, sticking out her tongue.

“Just give it back, you saucy minx; how am I supposed to sleep with only my pyjama bottoms?” Patrick asks, trying to get a hold of his wife, who giggles and dances away from him, giving him a tantalizing glimpse of her thighs underneath his striped pyjama shirt.

“I have now claimed this shirt as mine, and if you want it back, you will have to tear it from my body!” she declares, giving him a smug smile.

“If you insist,” Patrick says, and throws his arms around her middle, causing them both to topple over on the bed.

“I think thieves need to be punished, and I have a very good idea how I’m going to go about it,” he murmurs in her ear, drawing circles on the inside of her knee before swooping down to kiss her, hard.

After that night, she makes a habit of stealing his shirt.

 


	34. Chapter 34

**Requested by: colorful-magical-thing. Timothy comforting Angela after a break up #10 (“Just leave me alone”) and Timothy/Angela again #39 (“Please come home, I miss you”). I loved how you wrote those two.**

_10: “Just leave me alone,”_ Angela says, knees pulled up under her chin and face veiled by her long hair.

“Shall I beat him up for you, knock a couple of teeth out, break some bones?” Timothy quips, panicking slightly when Angela’s shoulders start shaking with sobs.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you cry,” he says, sitting down next to her and gingerly placing an arm around her shoulders, causing her to hug him tight, like she used to do when she was still a little girl, not a coltish teenager towering over their mum and only slightly shorter than their father.

“He’s a bastard, and I hate him, and I love him, and I hate him because I love him,” she weeps.

“I’ve brought you a man who will never betray you,” Timothy says, patting Angela’s hair, as he draws a threadbare toy rabbit from his pocket.

“Well, I hope I can trust you and dad as well as Cuthbert the Second,” Angela mumbles, taking the soft toy to press it against her cheek; for a moment, she is a toddler again, and Timothy can protect her from everyone and everything, so he holds her tight, because she needs to know that he won’t leave her to be lonely and hurting, ever.

 

 _39: “Please come home, I miss you,”_ Angela says, holding the heavy phone with both hands, voice small and her cheek aching for the soft fabric of her toy rabbit.

“Ange, do dad and mum know you’re using the phone?” Timothy asks, his voice crackly, which she guesses is natural, because he talks to her all the way from university, and that is far away.

“Cuthbert the Second misses you, too,” she says, pouting and brows furrowed, “And he cries sometimes, because he wants to see you so much.”

Timothy is silent for a little while before he says: “Well, I miss Cuthbert, too, and mum and dad and Teddy, and you most of all, Angel girl, so how about I come over this weekend, and I take you and Cuthbert to the pictures?”

“Yes please,” Angela says, and smiles a little.

“Give Cuthbert and Teddy a kiss from me, and do ask daddy or mummy if you can use the phone next time, alright?” he asks, and she nods, forgetting for a moment that her brother is far away.


	35. Chapter 35

**Requested by: Anonymous. 17 (“Bite me”) and 27 (“If we get caught I’m blaming you”) for Trixie and Christopher please!**

_17: “Bite me,”_ Christopher murmurs, rolling over in his sleep and slinging his arm over Trixie in the process.

“What?” she asks, pushing his arm away, sitting up, and shaking him.

“I just want you to show me that you have a good set of teeth, little dentist’s wife,” he slurs, knitting his brows in concentration as he tries to snuggle closer to Trixie.

“Christopher, sweetie, I think you’re talking in your sleep,” she says, gently stroking his hair.

“Love you too; your incisors are very pretty,” he mumbles.

“Well, that is very nice of you, darling,” Trixie says, pressing a kiss to his forehead before laying her head back on his chest, so she can feel his chest rumble as he prattles more nonsense.

_27: “If we get caught I’m blaming you,”_ Trixie hisses, trying to give her soon-to-be husband a stern look but failing miserably.

“There’s already a pretty engagement ring on your finger, Trix, so I don’t think people will begrudge us a little cuddle,” Christopher says, placing his hands on her hips and pressing a soft kiss in the corner of her mouth.

“What if the nuns see?” she whispers, but her thoughts aren’t on the nuns, not really, not with his breath ghosting over her face and his teeth grazing her earlobe.

“They understand love, don’t they?” Christopher asks, sighing as his fiancée brushes her thumb over his cheekbone, over his mouth.

“I’m not sure how well they understand the physical aspect of it, Christopher, and… oh, goodness!” she shivers as his fingertips explore the blades of her hips whilst his mouth trails a path of kisses along her throat.

“Well, I’m willing to take the blame if we’re caught, willing to confess my sin of corrupting the pretty young nurse with lustful behaviour and all that,” he murmurs, though Trixie can’t say he’s the only one who deserves to be blamed if they are seen, not with her hand on his buttocks and her tongue in his mouth.


	36. Chapter 36

**Suggested by: beatrix-franklin. 47 (“You’re seriously like a man-child”) Turnadette, 50 (“Oh God, I need a drink”) Shrixie.**

_47: “You’re seriously like a man-child,”_ Shelagh notes, hands on her hips, as she looks at the adoring look Patrick is giving his new car.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Patrick asks, his brows furrowed but his mouth framed by a smile.

“Boys and their toys are the same thing as men and their cars,” Shelagh says, remembering how Timothy used to polish his toy cars and planes till they shone every week.

“Do I detect a hint of sinful jealousy here, Mrs. Turner?” Patrick says, smirking.

“Not at all, _Mr. Turner,_ because…” she starts, but Patrick closes her in his arms and presses his mouth to hers, cutting off whatever explanation she wanted to give with the sweetest of kisses.

“Just remember that you are my favourite toy of all, darling, one that I’ll never tire of and I will always love and shower with attention and respect,” he says, resting his forehead against hers and rubbing the tip of his nose against her till she rolls her eyes and smiles, too.

_50: “Oh God, I need a drink,”_ Trixie whispers, hands in her hair and tears on her cheeks.

“You don’t need a drink, Trixie, and I don’t believe you really want one, either,” Shelagh says.

“I always want one, but I don’t want the second, or the third, or the fourth, or however many follow if I have one, and I don’t want the shame and the guilt come morning, either,” she confesses, dabbing at her eyes with her handkerchief to stop her mascara from running.

Shelagh feels slightly out of her depth here, so she falls back on her usual method: taking the speaker’s hand in hers and staying silent, listening to whatever needs to be said.

“Sometimes I am desperately afraid that I will not be able to control myself, and I’ll grab a bottle and drink all of it, because even if I don’t like the way it burns down my throat like bile, I like how it makes my thoughts hazy, and my sight blur, and allows me to stop thinking about everything, and then I feel weak,” Trixie says, her bottom lip trembling.

“To know all of this about yourself, and to fear it, shows me that you aren’t weak, Trixie,” Shelagh says, pulling Trixie close so she can have what she really needs: a good hug and a long cry.


	37. Chapter 37

**Requested by: marialujan22. I didn't find anything that fit my request but would you write about Teddy and Angela finding a kitten? My cat left home a long time ago and I miss him.**

Teddy held the saucer with milk tight in his chubby hands, brows furrowed in concentration as he tottered to the hedge.

“Look, pretty little kitty,” he said, putting the saucer down and only spilling a little on his hands.

The kitten slowly moved out from under the hedge, luminous eyes trained on the little boy, before meowing softly and putting its pink tongue in the milk, allowing Teddy to gently touch its filthy fur.

“Teddy, dearest?” his mother asked, scanning the garden, one hand held over her glasses to shield her eyes from the rays of the setting sun, the other holding Angela’s hand in hers.

“Mommy, Teddy has found a cat!” Angela exclaimed, pointing towards her brother and tugging her mother along.

Teddy scooped the kitten up in his arms and held it protectively against his chest, causing the cat to mew in surprise, before purring deeply.

“Teddy, what are you doing?” his mother asked, kneeling down next to him.

“I gave him some milk,” Teddy said, holding up the kitten with both hands so his mother could look at him. His hands were sticky with milk, and there were dark layers of grime underneath his fingernails.

“Oh, he’s all skinny and dirty, isn’t he?” she said, tickling the cat underneath its chin with one finger.

“Can we keep him?” Angela asked, hopping from one leg on the other.

“I don’t know. He may belong to someone,” their mother said, checking the kitten for a collar and finding none.

“He picked me,” Teddy said, and cradled the kitten against his chest in the same way he cuddled with his toy penguin.

“Cats usually pick their own homes, that is true,” his mother acknowledged, placing her palm on his head to smooth his hair.

“So, can we keep him?” Angela asked, balling her fists in excitement.

“We’ll take him inside and ask your father when he gets home, alright? It looks like you could all use a bath first, though,” their mother said, taking the kitten with one hand and using the other to hoist Teddy up and balance him on her hip.

Angela, never one to be left behind, took the saucer of milk from the ground. “He could sleep in Tim’s bedroom, now that Tim has gone to university,” she suggested.

“We’ll see, Angel girl. Let’s first get you washed and clothed and fed,” she answered, and kissed Angela’s face, then Teddy’s cheek, and finally the spot between the kitten’s ears, earning a rumbling purr in return.


	38. Chapter 38

**Requested by: Anonymous. Trixie/Christopher- Christopher and Trixie taking their two day old son round to Nonnatus House for the first time. 'I think he's hungry Trix!'**

“I think he’s hungry, Trix!” Christopher said, looking critically at the squirming baby in his arms, equal parts fear and love written in his eyes.

“Nurse Franklin has assured me that you are already well acquainted with fatherhood, Mr. Dockerill, so I have difficulty comprehending why you think the child needs nourishment, when all it requires is to be held right,” Sister Monica Joan said, swiftly taking the fussing child from him and rocking it in her arms.

“I never looked after Alexandra much when she was a baby, but I plan to do things differently this time,” Christopher admitted, giving his wife a dazzling smile, showing his perfectly straight white teeth.

“In hindsight, I fear the child may have been startled by those unnatural incisors of your teeth-puller, Nurse Franklin; they look almost like carnassials. I’d fear that he would rip out my throat with those predatory teeth if I didn’t know him better,” Sister Monica Joan noted, touching her wrinkly neck in alarm.

“Let’s hope he takes after his mother, then,” Trixie said, and took her baby boy in her arms, pressing a kiss against his nose, causing him to reveal pink gums that would remain toothless a little while longer.  


	39. Chapter 39

**Requested by: Anonymous. Trixie/Christopher- Christopher and heavily pregnant Trixie in bed talking with the prompt 'Christopher! Wake up! He's kicking!'**

**A/N: You guys really like Christopher and Trixie, don’t you ;)?**

“Christopher! Wake up! He’s kicking!” Trixie said, giving her husband a shove.

“You can’t use a general anaesthetic, you… what?” Christopher slurred, blinking owlishly, before continuing: “Did I speak in my sleep again?”

“You did, silly, but that’s not why I woke you,” Trixie whispered, taking his hand in hers and placing it on her bump.

Christopher gasped as he felt the fluttering, stuttering motion caused by the baby moving, then gently laid his head on Trixie’s belly, stroking her bump reverently.

“He’s going to be a soccer player, I think,” Trixie smiled, intertwining her hand with Christopher’s.

“He’s going to be strong, like his mother is,” Christopher murmured, kissing her stomach, smiling against the taut skin, drifting off; Trixie didn’t have the heart to wake him this time, though.


	40. Chapter 40

**Requested by: Anonymous. 33 (“I missed something, haven’t I?”) for Shrixie.**

“I’ve missed something, haven’t I?” Trixie said, eyes flicking to Shelagh’s stomach and back to her face again.

Shelagh blushed and stroked her belly, unable to keep from smiling; she had hoped to keep the good news within her family a little longer, but guessed that that was foolishness, because she was starting to show more and more, and barely fitted in her uniform or her normal dresses.

“I didn’t want to tell yet,” she confessed, “I was afraid I would be… tempting fate.”

Trixie took Shelagh’s hands in hers and stroked her knuckles with her thumbs, and asked: “Are you scared, sweetie?”

“Yes,” Shelagh said, “But a little less now that I’ve told you.”

“You know I’m not particularly religious, but I’ll pray for you, if you wish,” Trixie said, and was rewarded with a bone-crushing hug that she returned in full.

 

 


	41. Chapter 41

**Requested by: Anonymous. Trixie/Christopher- Christopher being really protective of Trixie when she is pregnant, at a meal at Nonnatus. 'Christopher, you haven't stopped touching my bump the whole afternoon! I can assure you the little guy is doing fine in there!'**

“Christopher, you haven't stopped touching my bump the whole afternoon! I can assure you the little guy is doing fine in there!” Trixie said, gently taking his hand and removing it from her belly.

“Don’t worry; Patrick wouldn’t let me lift anything heavier than a teapot when I was expecting,” Shelagh said, taking Teddy’s sticky hand in hers and kissing it whilst giving her husband a wink.

“Yes, but with your medical history…” Patrick started. 

“What Shelagh is trying to say is that it is completely normal for fathers-to-be to be a bit anxious,” Sister Julienne said, buttering a scone.

“I think Mr. Dockerill is out of his depth here, because there are no teeth to be inspected or drilled or pulled,” Sister Monica Joan decided, before putting a huge piece of cake into her mouth.

“No, but I’m a qualified midwife, and we’re having dinner with a whole lot of other qualified midwives, so I’m at the best place I could possibly be,” Trixie said, but when Christopher touched her bump again, she didn’t push his hand away, but intertwined her fingers with his, and let their hands rest on her belly.

 


	42. Chapter 42

**Requested by: Anonymous. #4 (“walk out that door and we’re through”) and #34 (“You come to my room and wake me up at 4am, to cuddle?”) turnadette.**

_4: “Walk out that door and we’re through,”_ Shelagh says, tongue slipping on the knots of words and heart hammering in her chest with such force that she fears it might break her ribs.

Patrick stands completely still on the threshold for just one moment, before sinking his head, relaxing his hands, and saying: “In that case I am sorry, Shelagh, that I have to disappoint you once more.”

“NO!” Shelagh screams as he steps out of her reach, tearing and breaking and hurting, oh God hurting so much…

She awakens with a gasp, nightgown plastered to her skin and pulse thundering in her ears.

“What’s wrong?” Patrick asks, awake at once and ready to spring into action, fingers reaching to assess the damage, straining and yearning to make things better.

“A nightmare, a terrible nightmare,” she sobs, snaking her arms around his chest to feel him close to her, to know that he is not out of her reach, not like that phantom Patrick in her dreams, made of hurt and shadows; this Patrick will never walk away from her, and is there, always.

 

 _34: “You come to my room and wake me up at 4am, to cuddle?”_ Shelagh murmurs, trying to find her glasses.

“It’s not your room, darling, it is the living room, and I had to come through here to go to _our_ room, which is empty and lonely now that you are here; that being said, I’m sorry if I woke you,” Patrick says, stroking her cheek.

Shelagh hears the tiredness and longing in his voice more than she can see it in his face – it is dark, after all, and she has given up on finding her glasses – and sighs.

“I miss you, too, dearest,” she whispers, “but it is only for a little while longer.”

She places his hand on her bump so he can feel the baby move, the fluttering motions becoming stronger every day.

“Yes,” Patrick says, and sits down next to the sofa, face resting against her belly, whilst she strokes his hair, both content to cuddle like this, even if it is 4am.


	43. Chapter 43

**Requested by: Anonymous. Another request! Sorry! Trixie and Christopher's son walking for the first time. 'That's it! Walk to mummy William!'**

**A/N: well someone has it all thought out ;)**

_“That’s it! Walk to mummy, William!”_ Trixie said, sitting on her knees and stretching out her arms to her son.

William smiled at her, and took a wobbling step, arms held wide to keep his balance.

“No, come to daddy, William” Christopher said from the other side of the room, putting down his book and kneeling on the carpet, mimicking Trixie.

“It’s not a competition, Chris!” Trixie said, pretty face clouding as her son looked at his father, suddenly unsure.

He stood still for a heartbeat longer, then tottered to Alexandra, who sat reading a magazine on the sofa.

“He already knows who loves him best,” Alexandra said, picking her little brother up and kissing his hair, unable to keep a smug smile from framing her mouth as her parents looked at each other and burst out laughing.

 


	44. Chapter 44

**Requested by: Anonymous. 26 (“Just shut up and kiss me”) and 30 (“I think I forgot how to breathe”) for Trixopher please!**

_26: “Just shut up and kiss me,”_ Trixie says as she stands in front of the mirror, pouting prettily.

“No, that’s not it,” she murmurs, knitting her brow before wiping every emotion from her face and leaving it blank.

“You may kiss me now, if you want,” she tries, voice low and flirty, eyes lowered before flicking up for just a second.

She scowls, and rubs her mouth; none of her usual lines and mannerisms seem right for Christopher, and it is driving her up the wall.

She practices a little more before falling on her bed, sighing in frustration.

When the time comes, she doesn’t ask him, and doesn’t play out a practiced little choreography; instead, she gently cups his face and kisses him tenderly, like she wants to, not like she things it should be done.

 _30: “I think I forgot how to breathe,”_ Christopher confessed as Trixie helped him up, aided by nurse Crane, who came running as soon as she heard him crash.

“How can you forget how to breathe?” Nurse Crane asked, scowling and ready to tell him exactly how the respiratory system works.

Trixie put on her poker face– she was definitely not going to tell Phyllis that she had been in the act of slowly rolling down her stockings while smiling suggestively at Christopher before he fainted – and shrugged.

“I looked at Trixie, and the world started spinning, and…” Christopher started.

“Low blood pressure and low blood sugar levels, I think,” Trixie interjected, “so I’ll get him something to eat and he should be fine.”

Nurse Crane looked at Trixie’s stocking lolling around her ankle, then looked the blonde straight in the face and said: “Just make sure you don’t end up in bed together due to ‘low blood pressure’, kids,” before winking and leaving Trixie’s room.


	45. Chapter 45

**Requested by: call-the-midwife. Tried to combine Trixie and Christopher with Shelagh and Patrick. Turnadette and Trixopher go out for dinner. 'You really should come for a check-up soon Trixie!'**

_“You should really come for a check-up soon, Trixie!”_ Shelagh whispers, squeezing her friend’s hand.

Trixie’s doll eyes go wide and she blushes, touches her belly, and murmurs: “Is it that obvious?”

 “Only to the eye of a trained midwife; you are glowing, dear, and I’ve seen that glow often at Tuesday clinic.”

“I haven’t told Christopher yet,” Trixie says, glancing over her shoulder at her husband, who is gesturing wildly as he talks about something – probably dentistry, knowing him- with Patrick, who nods and smiles, the spark of enthusiasm causing his eyes to glitter.

“You’ll find a way to tell him, I’m sure,” Shelagh smiles, tracing patterns on Trixie’s clammy hand.

“When I have, I’ll make an appointment with you, Nurse Turner,” Trixie says, smiles, and squeezes Shelagh’s hand back, face glowing with happiness.

 

 


	46. Chapter 46

**Requested by: CTMfan. I am really enjoying your Fragments series and had an idea if you’d want to use it. Patrick dealing with a hung over Shelagh.**

**A/N well one of my all-time favourite fanfics deals with a drunk Shelagh, so you might want to check it out. You can find it[here.](http://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=http%3A%2F%2Fthisunrulyheart.com%2Fintoxicating-the-club%2F&t=OWNlNjg5MmJmOWUzNWE5ZDU2YzczNDcyMDQ0YmJjMDBhYjQ0Njk2YSxZc0xnbjg2MQ%3D%3D&b=t%3AXrprvN0Bgg9H1JJx7XlCLg&p=http%3A%2F%2Fsincerelygeertje.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F161959672836%2Frequested-by-ctmfan-i-am-really-enjoying-your&m=1)**

**I’ve also done something a bit like it already, which deals with a drunk Shelagh, which you can find[here](http://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.fanfiction.net%2Fs%2F12517862%2F23%2FFragments&t=YmQ4N2ZlOTY3MjU4NGYwYTIzM2RmM2FjMGY1YTExYzU4NTIyODcyNCxZc0xnbjg2MQ%3D%3D&b=t%3AXrprvN0Bgg9H1JJx7XlCLg&p=http%3A%2F%2Fsincerelygeertje.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F161959672836%2Frequested-by-ctmfan-i-am-really-enjoying-your&m=1) (prompt number 40) **

Patrick helps his wife sit up so she can drink a glass of water with aspirin.

She groans, resting her head against his shoulder, keeping her eyes closed with such force that small wrinkles fan out from the corners, and whispers hoarsely: “I don’t feel very well.”

Last night, when she was intoxicated, smiling and giggling and cursing when she tripped, then giggling some more, Patrick thought he would find her hangover amusing; now, he realises that his wife feeling miserable is not a situation he’ll ever find amusing, not even if she’s brought it onto herself.

“Come, you naughty drunkard,” he murmurs, kissing her temples and stroking her hair, “I know you don’t feel well, but it’ll pass, I promise.”

She smiles a little at that, and downs another glass of water at his insistence as he holds her.


	47. Chapter 47

**Requested by: Anonymous. Trixie asking Shelagh for advice about what to wear when she meets Christopher's mother "I just want to look right"**

_“I just want to look right,”_ Trixie says, turning in front of the mirror and expecting her skirt suit with a frown.

“Trixie, I hardly think I’m the one you should be asking about fashion advice,” Shelagh says, sitting herself down on the bed and fingering the sleeve of a navy coat thrown haphazardly over the pillows.

“Nonsense, Shelagh; you dress well and a bit more conservative than my usual style, which is exactly what I need, because I don’t want Christopher’s mother to get the wrong idea,” Trixie says, biting her nails and frowning at the pile of colourful dresses that litter the bottom of the wardrobe, like leaves on the forest floor.

Shelagh gets to her feet, gently takes Trixie’s hand, pulls it away from her mouth and forces the blonde to look at her.

“Trixie, if Christopher’s mother has eyes, which I firmly suspect she will, she will see that you are kind, and intelligent, and more than worthy of her son; whatever you’ll wear, it will look right, because you love Christopher.”

“Thank you,” Trixie whispers, hugging the tiny woman close to her, and noting that this feels right, too.


	48. Chapter 48

**Requested by: Anonymous. Sister Evangelina having a talk with Patrick when he dropped Shelagh at Nonnatus after the misty road "You better treat her right"**

_“You better treat her right,”_ Sister Evangelina says, voice not trembling like she feared it would, but still hoarse with emotion.

The doctor turns around, sees Sister Evangelina, frowns a little, and asks: “Sister?”

“Don’t go ‘Sister’ me, Doctor Turner!” she says, stepping closer and wagging her finger as if he’s still a schoolboy that she can lecture.

“You brought Sister Bernadette back from the sanatorium, and she is dressed like a normal woman and has made up her mind to leave the convent, and though I never thought she was one to get her head turned by a man, I am not stupid; she is leaving us so she can be with you, and all I’ve got to say about that is that you better treat her right, or you’ll have me and Him upstairs to answer to!”

“I understand, Sister Evangelina, and I’ll do whatever is in my power to make her happy, I promise,” the doctor says, reaching for his cigarette case, remembering he is in a convent and can’t smoke, and rubbing his mouth instead.

Sister Evangelina knows that her Lord works in mysterious ways, and that Sister Bernadette has answered one prayer by restoring the doctor to life these past few months, but she can’t help but feel conflicted, can’t help from sadness bleeding into her voice as she says: “You better.”


	49. Chapter 49

**Requested by: Anonymous. Patrick bringing Shelagh breakfast in bed after their wedding.**

Patrick slowly pushes the door to the bedroom open with his shoulder, careful to keep the glass of orange juice on the tray he carries from sloshing.

He feels like the luckiest man in the world as he looks at his wife – _his_ Shelagh, he can say that now, and it makes his heart skip a beat – and places the tray with breakfast on the nightstand.

She must feel tired, or very safe; despite having risen for Lauds every morning for years, she is still fast asleep, even though it is well past nine.

Patrick resists the urge to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear, afraid to wake her, and studies her instead, noting that she looks angelic, her lashes throwing feathery shadows and her lips – still a bit swollen from all the kissing they did last night, and everything that came after –slightly parted.

He thinks this must be his favourite expression, this look of utter content and trust, for she must trust him so much to sleep so deep.

He is wrong; when she takes a deep breath and opens her eyes, the blue sparkling like fresh water when they light on him, she looks even better, and Patrick understands why: she knows that she is loved.


	50. Chapter 50

_**Requested by: purple-roses-words-and-love. Ok Friend, I neeeeed(See how many es) a continuation of number for that you just posted, I want to know about that nightmare and have Patrick talk her down, please? <3** _

_“Walk out that door and we’re through,”_ _Shelagh says, tongue slipping on the knots of words and heart hammering in her chest with such force that she fears it might break her ribs._

_Patrick stands completely still on the threshold for just one moment, before sinking his head, relaxing his hands, and saying: “In that case I am sorry, Shelagh, that I have to disappoint you once more.”_

_“NO!” Shelagh screams as he steps out of her reach, tearing and breaking and hurting, oh God hurting so much…_

_She awakens with a gasp, nightgown plastered to her skin and pulse thundering in her ears._

_“What’s wrong?” Patrick asks, awake at once and ready to spring into action, fingers reaching to assess the damage, straining and yearning to make things better._

_“A nightmare, a terrible nightmare,” she sobs, snaking her arms around his chest to feel him close to her, to know that he is not out of her reach, not like that phantom Patrick in her dreams, made of hurt and shadows; this Patrick will never walk away from her, and is there, always._

He strokes her hair and kisses her eyelids, already swollen from crying.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he murmurs, rocking her a little, holding her tight to him with his strong arms and tender hands.

For a moment, she thinks it best to deny she remembers, thinks it best to put these dark emotions away, in a drawer in the back of her mind, out of sight, but that is not how their relationship works, not after they have survived the disastrous adoption interview and that horrible period of loneliness and reaching out, only to be rebuffed.

Now, Patrick talks to her about his feelings, even the bad ones, talks about his fears and memories he’d rather not remember, and she knows she should repay him in kind.

“I dreamed I tried to talk to you, tried to keep you with me by telling you you didn’t have to come back if you walked away from me and your feelings again, and then you left,” she confesses.

She feels him stiffen for just one moment before his hands cup her face and tilt it upwards, so he can look at her. “I would never leave you, Shelagh. I have been hounded by my personal demons for years, but I will fight them all and strangle them with my bare hands before I let them drive you away,” he says, hands tight against her cheeks.

She sees then that her nightmare may have brought him more pain than it gave her, sees it in the way the blood leaves his lips and leaves them tight and stretched, sees it in the dullness of his eyes.

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” she whispers, and strokes his cheek, his mouth.

“I’m only upset because I love you, and I can’t bear to see you hurt,” he says, and because she can’t bear to see him in pain, either, she kisses him, knowing she will never let him leave, though there is no need for her to feel this way, because they will never be through.

 


	51. Chapter 51

**Requested by: Anonymous. Christopher proposes to Trixie- “I can't imagine my life without you.”**

_“I can’t imagine my life without you,”_ Christopher says, fidgeting with his serviette and nearly dropping his spoon, which is unusual; he tends to be confident, and not clumsy.

Trixie doesn’t speak, can’t speak, not if this is what she thinks it’s going to be.

Her throat and mouth have gone dry, and her heart hammers an uncertain rhythm in her chest whilst butterflies invade her stomach.

“Beatrix Franklin, will you marry me?” Christopher asks, fishing a small box lined in velvet out of the pocket of his coat and popping it open to reveal a pretty ring with a blue stone.

“Please say something, darling; you’re white as a sheet,” Christopher murmurs as she keeps staring at him, taking her hand and squeezing it, his eyes wide with concern.

“My friends call me Trixie, but I guess it is alright for my husband to call me Beatrix, if he wants to,” she whispers, voice hoarse with emotion, and kisses him hard so she doesn’t have to say anything more.  


	52. Chapter 52

**Requested by: purple-roses-words-and-love. Okay you actually gave me the idea for one of these short prompts the other night, actually both of them really lol ;) choose either or both, whatever you wish :) 1. Shelagh (and Patrick if you wish :))end up meeting Sister J's boyfriend from s4, before he dies 2. Sister J wants to hug or maternally snuggle Shelagh and tell her she's proud of her after Teddy's born, but won't because Patrick is in the room and nun's aren't supposed to be affectionate to people so she won't, Patrick notices...**

**A/N: Well I’m going with option 2! Also screw using 5 sentences. This deserves more.**

Sister Julienne was a nun, and as such, she knew she was not supposed to touch laymen.

Of course, her profession made that she had a lot more physical contact than most nuns, but since this was on a professional basis, it did not violate her vow of chastity.

On a normal day, Sister Julienne did not have a problem with any of her vows.

This day, though, was not an ordinary day: Shelagh had just given birth to a beautiful baby boy, and Sister Julienne’s hands itched to reach out and hug her close to her, yearned to stroke Shelagh’s cheek or hair or hold her and rock her like she had done when her sweet girl was still in labour, thus allowing such indulgence.

Now that Patrick was in the room, though, Sister Julienne felt slightly self-conscious, and was reminded of the habit and wimple she wore.  

She therefore stilled her traitorous hands and focussed on packing her instruments, trying to stifle the slight stab of envy and hurt that nestled itself in her gut, hoping it would wither and die like a plant without sunlight if she paid it no heed.

“Sister Julienne?” Patrick asked.

“Yes?” she answered, giving him a smile that was a bit tighter than it should have been.

“I’m going downstairs to phone Granny Parker, to let her and Timothy and Angela know the good news. Would you stay a little longer with Shelagh?” His eyes were soft and full of compassion and comprehension.

In that moment, Sister Julienne understood exactly how her once youngest sister could have left everything behind for him. She could never tell him that, though, so she smiled instead – a genuine smile this time, not tight at all – and said: “Thank you, doctor.”

She turned her attention to Shelagh, who sat cradling her son, eyes glittering like stars.

“I’ve always said that all babies are beautiful, but I genuinely think this little boy here might be the most beautiful I have ever seen, Sister, together with Angela of course,” Shelagh whispered, tracing the curve of her baby’s skull with her fingertip.

“That’s because they are yours,” Sister Julienne said, gingerly sitting down next to her on the bed.

“I don’t think I could be happier, or more tired. I feel as if I could sleep for days, yet I don’t want to let him go, not even for a moment,” Shelagh murmured, but let her baby go with one hand she did; she took Sister Julienne’s hand in hers and squeezed it.

Sister Julienne could not stop herself from reaching out to Shelagh, then, and envelope her in a hug, kissing her brow and smiling, throat too thick with emotion to speak.

She was not supposed to touch laymen, but this was Shelagh, and that made all the difference.

 


	53. Chapter 53

**Requested by: Anonymous. Shrixie- Trixie and Shelagh take Angela and Trixie's newborn to the lake and have a chat. 'What's the baby doing mama?' Angela said, glaring at Trixie's chest.**

_“What’s the baby doing, mama?” Angela said, glaring at Trixie’s chest._

“The baby is having its lunch, Angel girl, just like you,” Shelagh explained, handing her daughter a triangle of bread with jam.

“Do you have bread in there, too?” Angela asked Trixie, eyes huge as she took a bite of her sandwich and dripped jam on her fingers.

Trixie laughed, causing her baby to mewl in discontent as it became harder for him to drink, so she stilled herself and was rewarded with a deep sigh and a little hand that flexed, then closed around her fingertip.

“No Angela, there’s milk in there; remember when Teddy was a baby?” Trixie said, and saw something of comprehension dawn in the young girl’s eyes.

Angela looked at her mother, frowned, and said: “I didn’t know women were a bit like cows,” which caused another bout of laughter and a grumpy baby.

 

 


	54. Chapter 54

**Requested by: Anonymous. Shrixie "so I've heard you've become rather acquainted with a dentist"**

_“So I’ve heard you’ve become rather acquainted with a dentist,”_ Shelagh says, immediately taking a sip of her tea to stop herself from grinning like a maniac.

Trixie blushes prettily and picks her sugar cube with care, putting it into her china cup and steering before answering.

“Christopher and I have become good friends, yes,” she says, putting her cup back on its matching saucer and picking a biscuit out of the tin.

“From what I’ve heard, you are quickly approaching different territory,” Shelagh can’t help but say, her happiness for her friend making her a bit bolder than usual.

“Ex-nuns are not supposed to gossip,” Trixie says primly, taking a dainty sip from her tea.

“Since I am a married woman as well as an ex-nun I am more comfortable with minor sins than you are, including ungentlemanly conduct, so do ask if you have any questions regarding your dishy dentist,” Shelagh says, giving the bemused nurse a big wink whilst blushing a little; bold talk is not something she is very well acquainted with, and something tells her that is for the best.


	55. Chapter 55

**A/N: Well some people asked if I could do a 5-sentence prompt in which Trixie asks Shelagh for advice for in the bedroom. It became a bit longer than 5 sentences, for which I hope you guys will forgive me ;). Full steam ahead.**

“What I wanted to ask, and I’m asking you because I feel you would give me an honest answer: is it normal…” Trixie started, then blushed a deep crimson and trained her eyes on her cup of tea, fiddling with her wedding ring, twisting it up and down her finger.

Shelagh poured herself a new cup and waited patiently, knowing that giving Trixie a little time to find the right words would probably be best.

However, when the young nurse still didn’t say anything, Shelagh took a different approach by taking Trixie’s perfectly manicured hand in hers, squeezing it, and saying: “Trixie, you can ask me anything, and I won’t be shocked or offended, I swear.”

“Alright; is it normal if Christopher kisses me, well… _there,_ ” Trixie said, colouring an even deeper shade of red, “and is it normal for me to like it?”

 _Oh dear,_ Shelagh thought, feeling herself blush, too, before pushing away the somewhat hysterical giggle that tickled her throat by saying: “There are many ways to make love, Trixie, and as long as you enjoy it and as long as Christopher enjoys it, it is perfectly alright. Making love is not about what others would think of it, because those other people are not in the bedroom with you. Making love is about _love,_ not shame.”

“I guess it is gentlemanly conduct in a very different way than what we normally mean with those two words,” Trixie said.

“Yes,” Shelagh said, finally allowing the giggles to burst from her lungs. She was rewarded with another blush from Trixie, and a bout of laughter, too.

 


	56. Chapter 56

**Requested by: Anonymous. Don't know if you're still doing these but if you do, could you write one with Shelagh sending Timothy off to University and him thanking her for saying yes to his "proposal"**

**A/N: sure thing, anon!**

Shelagh was smiling too much so she would not have to cry.

 _Don’t be silly; he’s going off to university, not leaving you forever,_ she scolded herself, smiling a little brighter at Timothy as he loaded the last of his bags into the car.

But it _did_ feel as if he was leaving them forever, and she knew that it felt like that because it was partly true; his life, and that of his parents, would be forever altered from this day, and it made her feel raw and strangely sentimental.

Timothy came to stand beside her, and she silently marvelled at how he had grown since the first day she had seen him; he towered above her now, and she was forced to tilt her face upwards to be able to look at him, swallowing in a futile effort to make her throat feel less thick.

He reached for her hand, then decided against it and went in for a hug instead, gangly arms tight around her as he whispered: “Thank you, mum, for looking after me and Ange and Teddy so well, and for loving dad so much, and for accepting my proposal…” and she heard his voice was heavy with emotion, too.

“Thank you for letting me love you,” she whispered back, no longer fighting against the tears but crying openly, because she was happy and sad at the same time, though mostly glad to have this amazing young man as her son.


	57. Chapter 57

**Requested by: purple-roses-words-and-love. So humor and drama mixed together? Well That can only mean one thing, it's time to call in Nurse Crane lol Prompt: Nurse Crane overhears Shelagh having a rather heated personal (and rare) disagreement with Sister Julienne. "Young Mrs. Turner, you are lucky you are far too old for her to discipline, your lack of respect could be heard clearer than Sister Monica Joan scouring the kitchen for cake."**

_"Young Mrs. Turner, you are lucky you are far too old for her to discipline, your lack of respect could be heard clearer than Sister Monica Joan scouring the kitchen for cake,”_ Nurse Crane said, wearing her customary scowl.

Shelagh copied her colleague’s expression almost unconsciously and said: “I am sorry that our _private_ conversation was loud enough for you to hear, Nurse Crane.”

“I hope you are sorrier for the tone of that conversation than the volume.”

Shelagh frowned, bit her lip, said: “Excuse me,” turned around, walked back into Sister Julienne’s office, her heels making an angry staccato on the polished tiles, and said: “I think I have a right to my opinion on contraception, and I think you should respect my opinion even if it is different from yours, but I am sorry if I spoke sharply with you, because no matter what happens, you don’t deserve that.”

“And I am sorry if I’ve made you feel as if I don’t respect your opinion,” Sister Julienne said softly, taking Shelagh’s hand and squeezing it.

 _You should speak a little louder so that Nurse Crane can hear you over Sister Monica Joan’s quest for cake,_ Shelagh thought, but found she could genuinely smile at Sister Julienne, her hurt already fading.

 


	58. Chapter 58

**Requested by: Anonymous. Trixie does Shelagh's first postnatal check-up after Teddy.**

“Oh, Shelagh, he’s beautiful!” Trixie whispered, gently stroking baby Teddy’s head, letting her fingertips fan out against the down that covered his skull.

“I feel as if my heart has grown so as not to burst with all the love I feel,” Shelagh confessed, eyes focussed on her baby’s face, a smile framing her mouth.

She was positively glowing with happiness, Trixie noted, radiant with love.

“I bet this little bean has written his name on your heart,” Trixie said, fiddling with the stethoscope she wore around her neck; she would have to start Shelagh’s postnatal check-up soon.

“Every time I think I cannot love more, and then Timothy tells me a medical fact I didn’t know yet, gleaned from _the Lancet_ , or Angela shows me a drawing she did, or Teddy makes an expression I haven’t seen before, and my heart swells and becomes a little bigger than before,” Shelagh said, taking Teddy’s tiny hand and caressing the chubby folds of his palm.

 _I want that, too,_ Trixie thought, but there was no envy in this wish, only a promise for the future, when her fingertips would stroke another baby’s head, one that would have written their name on her heart, and that mark would never fade.


	59. Chapter 59

**Requested by: Anonymous.  Trixie has a moment to herself with her baby, and reflects on how far she has come. 'You, little mister, have made mummy the luckiest lady in the world!'**

**A/N: sorry that this took such a long time! Another anon suggested that the baby could be called William, and I am going to stick with that, because I like the little boy to have a name.**

 

 _“You, little mister, have made mummy the luckiest lady in the world!”_ Trixie whispered.

William gurgled happily, smiling at her with toothless gums, eyes that were the deep blue of all new-born children narrowed into slits.

“Yes, I really do think I am very, very happy,” Trixie continued, tracing the ball of his little foot before enveloping it in her hand, giggling as William curled his toes.

“Ah, look at two of my favourite people, so happy even though this hour is hardly Christian,” Christopher murmured, rubbing his eyes and propping himself up on his elbows so he could look at her.

“Did we wake you?” Trixie asked, kissing William’s fuzzy head.

“Yes, but that is alright, because now I can tell you that you two and Alexandra have made me the luckiest man in the world,” Christopher said, slinging his arm around Trixie and kissing her smiling mouth.

 

 


	60. Chapter 60

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I’ve decided that the theme for my 100 word fic challenge is going to be ‘pros and cons’. What are the pros of being married to Patrick, what are the cons? And what are they in a marriage with Shelagh?

Patrick handed her the tin, using his free hand to pat her head. “There you go, my tiny wife,” he told her, unable to stop smirking.

Shelagh rolled her eyes and tucked the tin under her arm. “I could get a chair next time, you know, and reach the top shelf all by myself,” she told him, already stepping past him.

“Ah, but will a chair do this?” Patrick asked, draping his arms around her and bending down to steal a quick kiss.

She smiled against his mouth. “No, darling, that is definitely a pro of being married to you.”


	61. Chapter 61

“Surprise!” Patrick exclaimed, putting the tablet on the nightstand.

She rubbed her eyes and fumbled for her glasses, trying not to wrinkle her nose at the scent of burned toast. “What’s this?”

“I made you breakfast,” he said, flopping down next to her, hand already curled around a spoon dripping with runny egg, ready to put it into her mouth.

He fed it to her, brow furrowed in anticipation. “Good?”

It wasn’t, but still she nodded, causing his face to split into a grin.

Poor thing couldn’t cook to save his life, but who was she to tell him so?


	62. Chapter 62

He tiptoed into the bedroom, shoes in hand, automatically avoiding the one board that creaked and groaned like an aching joint.

No matter how quiet he was, though, Shelagh always knew when he had come home. As he put his shoes down and eased into bed, she flipped on her side.

“Patrick?” she slurred, trying to open her eyes, lines appearing between her eyebrows.

He tucked her under his arm and pressed a kiss to her temple. “All’s well, darling. Go back to sleep.”

“Canna sleep without you,” she sighed, and rested her head on his chest.

“Love you, too.”


	63. Chapter 63

Patrick slipped between the sheets, sighing as warmth enveloped him.  

“Hm,” Shelagh said.

Patrick held his breath to see if she’d come awake, but she only rolled over and curled against him.

He slung an arm around her and pulled her close, inhaling the mix of her shampoo and something all Shelagh.

Then, she pressed her icy feet against his calves, causing him to jerk and grimace.

“You are cold as a popsicle, you know that?” he murmured.

“Hm,” she said, and smiled against his throat.

“Poor thing,” he decided, though he wasn’t sure if he meant himself or her.


	64. Chapter 64

She patted the nightstand in an effort to find her glasses, but only encountered empty air. Very softly, she cursed.

“What’s wrong, darling?” Patrick asked, sitting down behind her, cradling her between his legs.

“I can’t find my glasses.”

“Ah. I guess you’ll just have to stay in bed with me, then,” he said sweetly, kissing her neck in a way that was everything but sweet.

Later, when he was taking a bath and she tried to fold his pyjamas with blurry sight, her hand found her glasses in his pocket.

“You little sneak!” she said, and shook her head.


	65. Chapter 65

Shelagh fumbled with the lock of the front door. The wind was like a snarling dog as it nipped at her fingers. They smarted with cold, and it took her several tries before she gained entrance into her house.

She slipped inside. Immediately, her glasses misted over, warmth enveloping her like a blanket.

“Poor thing, let me help,” a deep voice said, plucking her glasses from her nose and placing them on the little table in the hallway. Patrick took her hands in his and rubbed some life back into them.

“Another pro,” she murmured, and stepped in his embrace.


	66. Chapter 66

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final part of the 'pros and cons' ficlet series!

“Shelagh, can you come into my office for a moment, please?” Patrick asked, face a mask of neutrality, voice somewhat distant.

She slipped inside and shut the door, a frown carving little lines between her eyebrows. “Is something wrong?” she asked.

He was beside her in a heartbeat, and enveloped her with his arms, tucking her neatly under his chin. “I simply had to hold you, and tell you that you look beautiful today, but I couldn’t do it with everyone looking on,” he murmured.

“Silly man,” she said, placing her cheek over his heart, “But I love you, anyway.”


	67. Chapter 67

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got another number of prompts given to me, so be prepared for a number of chapters to be uploaded in the following days!

_“Catch me if you can!”_ Shelagh says, smirking in a less-than-innocent way.

“Oh, I will, and when I do, you are in serious trouble for stealing yet another pyjama shirt,” Patrick says, suddenly lunging at her in the hope of catch her unawares.

Shelagh dances away from him, his striped top whispering soft encouragements.

Patrick reaches for her again, but again she eludes him, swift as a nymph.

In the end, when he manages to sling his arm around her waist and pull her close for an unforgiving kiss, he has the firm suspicion that she let herself be caught.

He doesn’t mind.


	68. Chapter 68

_“We can’t do that here!”_ Trixie whispered, but her fingers were still tangled in Christopher’s doctor’s coat, and her breathing was still rapid, belying her own eagerness.

“Of course we can,” Christopher said, nipping at her earlobe.

“But what if someone walks in on us?” Trixie asked, pushing her hand underneath his coat, his jumper, his shirt, till her fingers met warm skin.

“Who would ever try to get into a dentist’s practice at eleven in the evening? Now, desk or chair?”

Later, when their heartbeats calmed and their flushed faces returned to their original colour, Trixie realised that, yes, they definitely _could_ do that here.


	69. Chapter 69

_“Already? Do I really have that much of an effect on you? ”_ Shelagh whispered, the tip of her tongue between her teeth.

She bent forward to kiss the shell of his ear, and whispered: “And I haven’t even started undressing.”

“Yes, well, you know what those nightdresses with thin straps do to me,” he muttered, blushing.

“Do I?” Shelagh asked, placing a warm hand just above his knee, kissing the wrinkled skin just beside his eye, causing a shiver to crawl along his spine.

 _I’ve married a saucy little temptress,_ Patrick thought as he hauled her against him.

“I think you do, dearest, but I also think I’m more interested in seeing just how much of an effect I can have on you,” he said, and kissed her.


	70. Chapter 70

_“ Don’t call this number again,”_ Timothy hissed, then hung up.

Angela regarded him through the crack of the door.

Her eyes were swollen from crying, and her vision blurred a little as another tear separated itself from her cornea, but she could still see Timothy well enough, could see how his chest rose and fell quickly, how the hand that held the receiver shook.

“Damn him straight to Hell,” he muttered under his breath, “for breaking my sister’s heart.”

Angela couldn’t stay hidden, then; she pushed the door open and slung her arms around him, burying her face against his chest.

“You’re the best brother a girl could wish for, Tim,” she murmured, and felt her heart beat steadily in agreement.


	71. Chapter 71

_“I haven’t slept in four days,”_ Trixie muttered, letting her head fall on the table with a soft thud.

“I know it seems like forever, but babies will eventually fall into a regular sleeping rhythm,” Shelagh soothed her, gently squeezing Trixie’s shoulder.

“I’ll take all the sleep I can get for now,” Barbara said, patting her bump.

“Angela was a fussy sleeper, but Teddy often sleeps like a rock, probably because he takes after his father,” Shelagh mused.

“That’s hardly reassuring in my case: Christopher talks an awful lot in his sleep, and he sleepwalks regularly, too, occasionally falling into the bathtub,” Trixie said.

“Luckily it takes a longer time for babies to learn how to walk than it does for them to learn how to sleep,” Barbara said, and at that, they all laughed.


	72. Chapter 72

  1. **“ Make me. ”**



_“Make me,”_ Shelagh says, arms folded in front of her chest.

Patrick sighs, then slings her over his shoulder, quick as lightning.

“Patrick, put me down!” Shelagh hisses, but he has one arm slung in the hollows of her legs and one hand on her buttocks, which is decidedly better than not holding her, so he disobeys.

“You told me to make you,” he says, voice very level, as he carries her to the bedroom.

“It’s the middle of the day!” she complains.

She forgets to protest as his clever fingers start their exploration, even if it isn’t evening yet.

**173: “ Lie back. ”**

_“Lie back,”_ Shelagh whispers, kissing Patrick’s forehead before gently pushing him back onto the bed.

She positions herself in front of him, taking one of his feet in her hand, using the other one to undo his shoelaces.

“You’re SO pretty like this,” Patrick slurs, grinning like a fool as he sits up so he can look at her.

“And you are drunk,” she softly chastises him.

“Nah, I’m only slightly intoxicated,” he murmurs.

She cocks an eyebrow at him, so he gathers her in his arms and kisses her happily, sloppily, to show her he hasn’t lost all control just yet.

**185: “ Open up. ”**

_“Open up,”_ Patrick says.

Shelagh rolls her eyes, but opens her mouth anyway, allowing her husband to place a bit of chocolate on her tongue.

It is sweet and lovely as it melts and coats the insides of her cheeks.

“Why am I eating this?” she asks, one hand daintily held in front of her mouth.

Patrick brings his face very close to hers, breath ghosting over her lips, as he whispers: “I’ve heard that chocolate does…. _something_ to women.”

“What makes you think men are immune to it, Doctor Turner?” Shelagh asks, but kisses him before he can explain, letting him experience the effect of chocolate, too.


	73. Chapter 73

_“First one to make a noise loses,”_ Christopher murmurs, scraping his teeth over her collar bone.

 _After all, we’re still at his practice,_ Trixie thinks, and has to swallow down a giggle, then bites her lip to give the little sigh that wants to escape her mouth no chance.

She can feel Christopher smirk against her throat, so she retaliates by slinging her leg around him and drawing him closer, cradling him between her thighs.

She cups him through his trousers, ripping a groan from his lips.

“You don’t play fair,” he whispers when he sees her smug look.

“I’ll give you a second chance,” she says, and with a wink places his hand between her legs.


	74. Chapter 74

**163: “ Fuck me. ”**

_“Fuck me,”_ Shelagh slurred.

“Good to know that alcohol dissolves your sexual inhibitions as well as those of language,” Patrick noted, slinging his arms around her.

Shelagh frowned at him, the skin between her brows folding itself into small creases.

“Who would’ve thought my prim, proper wife capable of such coarse language?” Patrick continued, one hand splaying on her buttocks. “I know we’ve agreed we’d make love the next time you’d be inebriated and willing, but who would’ve thought…”

“Stop talking,” Shelagh said, and kissed him, hard.

**171: “ On your knees. ”**

_“On your knees.”_

Patrick blinked in surprise at the command his wife had just growled in his ear.

Shelagh leaned back and cocked an eyebrow at him, a devilish smirk playing around her mouth, and asked: “Something wrong, dearest?”

He shook his head and sat down in front of her, taking her hips in his hands, kissing the little red line her knickers had pressed into her skin.

“Aren’t you a bold, naughty girl?” he murmured, then kissed her between her legs.

After all, she might be a wicked temptress, but he was willing to be tempted.

**179: “ First one to make a noise loses.”**

_“First one to make a noise loses,”_ Shelagh says, nodding at the cradle at the foot of their bed.

Teddy has drifted off again, but he’s a light sleeper, which has had more of an impact on their sex life than Patrick had thought it would.

He understands the need to be quiet if he wants to make love tonight, but he can’t help but feel as if Shelagh has just set him a challenge that’s begging to be broken.

“Are you sure you’re up to this, Mrs. Turner?” he whispers, before she places a finger against his mouth to signal that their little competition has already begun.

He’s unprepared for the way she flips him on his back and straddles him, is unprepared for the touches of her small, clever hands.

She beats him fair and square, but luckily little Edward doesn’t wake until he has completed his revenge on her and they’re both reduced to giggles.


	75. Chapter 75

_172: “The food looks great, but… there’s something much more delicious I’d like to eat right now,”_ Christopher said.

Trixie couldn’t help it; even though they’d been married for nearly a year and the activities of married couples in their bedrooms were no longer secret to her, she blushed.

“Christopher,” she chastised him, pursing her mouth so as not to smile.

She tried to move past him so she could heap some food on his plate, but Christopher slung his arm around her waist and pulled her in his lap, pressing a hot, open-mouthed kiss in her neck.

“The food will get cold,” Trixie protested, but her own arms were already draped around her husband, her nose against his throat.

“I told you: I’m hungrier for something else right now,” Christopher murmured in her ear, then picked her up and carried her to their bedroom.

 


	76. Chapter 76

**174: “ Take off your clothes. ”**

_“Take off your clothes,”_ Trixie breathed, hands already at his collar, trying to undo the slippery buttons.

“Someone is eager,” Christopher said, pulling her close to him so he could press a kiss to her forehead.

Trixie took his face between her hands and snogged him, hard.

“It’s this pregnancy,” she said when she broke their kiss, hands wrenching his shirt from his trousers, “it makes me want you all the time.”

“I thought you already wanted me all the time before,” Christopher said as he helped her drag her slip over her head and throw it away.

“Just take of your clothes,” she said, and kissed him again.

**177: “ You’re so beautiful. ”**

_“You’re so beautiful,”_ Christopher said, tracing the line between her breasts with a fingertip, causing Trixie to shudder in delight, her toes curling.

“What do you love most about me?” she asked, drawing a circle on the hand he wasn’t using to touch her.

“You have lovely breasts,” he said, tapping each nipple with his index finger.

“And?” she asked, biting her lip.

“And even lovelier legs,” Christopher murmured, taking her hips in his hands and stroking her thighs.

“Most of all, though, I love your smile,” he continued, and kissed her.


	77. Chapter 77

**Shelagh Turner, I can't believe you said that in front of nuns.**

_“Shelagh Turner, I can’t believe you said that in front of nuns!”_ Patrick said, pulling her in his embrace.

“Yes, well, being the only married woman there, I felt I had to speak up,” Shelagh murmured, cheeks painted a pretty pink by her shy blush.

“Maybe you wanted to show them that you’re not the prim, proper woman they thought you were,” he murmured, pressing the tip of his tongue against her earlobe.

“Not at all, dearest,” she said, pushing his face away, looking at him from between her lashes, eyes full of everything but shyness.

“Are you sure?” he asked, voice thick.

Her kiss was all the answer he needed.

**Shelagh and Trixie: Trixie asks Shelagh for advice on becoming a stepmother.**

“So I wondered: how do you do it?” Trixie finished, letting her hands fall in her lap.

Shelagh took a bite from her biscuit and chewed it slowly as she thought about how to answer her friend’s question.

“There’s not one right way to be a mother, Trixie,” she said after she’d swallowed the last fragment, “just like there’s not one right way to make a cake. There are ingredients that are necessary, but those you have plenty of: love, compassion, sincerity, trust...”

“I’ll bake my own cake, then,” Trixie said, and laughed, taking Shelagh’s hand in hers and giving it a soft squeeze.  


	78. Chapter 78

**163: “Fuck me.”**

_“Fuck me,”_ Trixie moaned.

Startled, Christopher propped himself up on his elbows so he could see her face.

She looked at him through half-lidded eyes, cheeks flushed, then smiled, and said: “Oh, dear, I think I got carried away a bit there,” even though her legs were still slung around his waist, and the hand she wasn’t using to caress his face was making short work of the buttons of her dress.

“Should we stop?” he asked, drawing a line over her collar bones with his index finger, smirking at the little whimper this drew from her.

She pressed her hips against his and whispered: “Just fuck me.”

He did.

**171: “On your knees.”**

_“On your knees,”_ Trixie said, slapping Christopher’s shoulder playfully.

He flipped on his belly, then got up with a grunt.

“Round two already?” he said, stroking her arm, then cupping her face so he could kiss her softly.

“Did you plan just one round for our wedding night?” she asked, voice husky as she pressed her hand against his stomach, feeling the dark arrow of hair there.

“I’m more interested in what you planned, dear; if we’re going to do this sitting up, we won’t do it with my legs tucked under me, or they’ll go right to sleep.”

“Like you will when I’m done with you,” she giggled, and kissed him.

**73: “Oh, are you ticklish?”**

_“Oh, are you ticklish?”_ Cristopher asked, pressing his fingertips against Trixie’s hips.

She yelped and tried to squirm away.

Christopher was on top her, though, pinning her to the bed with his weight, mercilessly letting his hands roam over her belly.

His touch was so soft she told herself she should hardly feel it, but quite the opposite was true.

Only when she was out of breath and tears of laughter prickled in the corner of her eyes did he slide off of her, goofy grin holding his mouth hostage.

She sat up, quickly straddled him, and whispered: “The real question, Mr. Dockeril, is: are you?”


	79. Chapter 79

_“Would you be Godmother to this little one?”_ Trixie asked, pressing a kiss to the silken head of her baby.

Valerie blinked slowly, trying to take in the enormous weight the handful of words carried.

“Do you mean me?” she said.

Christopher slung an arm around Trixie, smiled, and said: “Of course we mean you, Valerie.”

Valerie pressed a hand against her mouth, her cheery eyes sparkling.

“I’d love nothing more,” she said, taking away her hand, and smiling so much that the corners of her mouth hurt.


	80. Chapter 80

_“Trixie, I know it stings but you have to push!”_ Shelagh said, giving the other woman’s hand a firm squeeze.

“You didn’t tell me it would feel like this, that it would hurt like this!” Trixie said through gritted teeth, pushing a lock of hair that had gotten stuck to her sweaty face out of her eyes.

 _Because no one can quite prepare you for how it feels,_ Shelagh thought.

“It’ll all be forgotten once the baby is out, I promise,” she said.

Trixie just moaned, then pressed a hand against her mouth to stifle the sound.

Later, when the baby lay safely in the crook of her elbow, and she traced its damp, silken head with one finger, she said: “You were right, Shelagh: it’s all forgotten, now.”


	81. Chapter 81

**185: “ Open up. ”**

_“Open up,”_ Christopher murmured, stroking her thighs.

Trixie opened her eyes instead and took his hands in hers, stilling them.

“Christopher, you’d promised you wouldn’t take work home again, and that includes language you normally reserve for your patients,” she said, cocking an eyebrow at him.

He grinned and placed a sloppy kiss on her mouth before whispering: “I don’t think you have a right to demand that of me, Trixie, not with how you’re dressed, you little seductress.”

She furrowed her brows and looked down at her nurse’s uniform, creased and rucked up around her waist.

“Oh, hush,” she grumbled, and folded her legs around him.

**161: “ Bite me. ”**

_“Bite me,”_ Trixie sighed, her hands in Christopher’s hair, keeping his face on her neck.

He smiled against her skin and touched her pulse point with the tip of his tongue.

“If I bite you, it’ll be visible for days, Trix, and what would people say to that?” he said, words muffled.

She cupped his chin and tilted his head up so she could kiss him hungrily, wildly, passionately.  

“Your own teeth are the best advertisement for your practice, and how else will you show how good they work?” she giggled after she broke their kiss.

 “If you put it like that…” he said, and pressed his teeth against her soft throat till she moaned.


	82. Chapter 82

**132: “ I haven’t slept in four days… ”**

_“I haven’t slept in four days…”_ Trixie cried, cradling the baby against her chest.

The child whimpered, but there was not much energy in it, either.

“Come here, you,” Christopher said, and pulled his wife down next to him.

He took the baby from her and placed it on his chest, holding it there with one hand, tucking Trixie under his other arm.

Trixie and the baby sighed in unison, both tired and weak.

“Sleep a little, darling; I’m here now,” Christopher murmured in her hair, but Trixie’s eyes had already fallen shut, enveloped as she was in his warmth and love.

**181: “ If you’re bored; Wanna have sex? ”**

_“If you’re bored; wanna have sex?”_ Trixie asks, placing her hand on Christopher’s upper leg, brushing her thumb over the soft fabric of his trousers.

He suppresses a shudder and tucks a lock of hair behind her ear instead.

“I don’t have to be bored to want that,” he says, kissing her, taking her lower lip between his teeth and worrying it gently.

Her right hand splays on his cheek, the other one snaking underneath his jumper, his shirt, till it meets warm skin.

He pulls her closer, pushing up her skirt till he can finger her garter clasps.

Later, when his jumper has been left on the living room sofa, and one of her stockings has disappeared only to turn up hanging on a lamp, Trixie intertwines their hands, and says: “I’m a lot of things now, but I’m definitely not bored anymore.”

**187: “ Already? Do I really have that much of an effect on you? ”**

_“Already? Do I really have that much of an effect on you?”_ Trixie smirks as she tilts her head up for a kiss.

She’s pressing close against him, her arms draped around his neck, her mouth so close to the shell of his ear that every breath sounds like a gust of wind.

“Don’t tell me you don’t know what you do to me in that uniform of yours, with those legs, and that waist, and…” he groans, cupping her buttocks and pressing her closer to him.

She lets out a surprised huff of air which sends tingles along his spine.

“You do like my uniform, don’t you?” she retaliates, hooking a leg around him, her heel digging into his calf.

“I like you best when you’re not wearing anything,” Christopher says, and proceeds to tell her just how much with every piece of clothing he takes off.


	83. Chapter 83

_“Car sex looks so much easier in the movies,”_ Christopher groused, rubbing the spot on his head where a lump was quickly forming.

“I’m sure it’ll be worth it in the end,” Trixie said, bunching up Christopher’s jacket and placing it behind her head so she wouldn’t bang it against the door.

“It better be, since I’m not willing to risk life and limb for mediocre lovemaking,” he said as he bent over her and kissed her.

Trixie slung her legs around him, locking her ankles in the small of his back, moaning as she felt him against her centre.

“You’re being very responsive,” Christopher grinned, balancing himself on one hand so he could use the other to push her hair out of her face.

“I told you I’m sure your efforts won’t be wasted,” she breathed, and kissed him.


	84. Chapter 84

**Trixie/Shelagh/Valerie- 'Shelagh and Valerie watched as Trixie ran to the bathroom. They both thought the same thing and ran after her.'**

_Shelagh and Valerie watched as Trixie ran to the bathroom. They both thought the same thing and ran after her._

Shelagh managed to pull Trixie’s pony tail out of her face just in time before Trixie vomited, spine curving and uncurving as her stomach heaved.

“Don’t fight it,” Shelagh murmured, rubbing circles between the other woman’s shoulder blades.

“I can’t stand vomiting,” Trixie moaned, wiping the tears from her cheeks with a piece of toilet paper.

“You’ll be doing a whole lot more of it in the weeks to come, I’d say,” Valerie said as she filled a glass with water.

“I’d meant to bake a cake and put the good news on it in pink and blue frosting, but you can’t keep things like this from fellow midwives,” Trixie laughed, allowing her friends to hug her and whisper their congratulations.

**Trixie/Christopher- 'Oh little one... you want mummy don't you!'**

_“Oh little one… you want your Mummy, don’t you?”_ Trixie said, trying to take the baby from Christopher.

“Hey!” he said, twisting away from her, pressing a kiss to his son’s silken head, which did nothing to still the baby’s cries.

“Christopher, he’s crying because he’s hungry!” Trixie huffed, reaching for their child again, taking him from her husband and sitting down so she could feed him.

Christopher sat down next to her, placing one hand on her lower back, the other cupping his baby’s head.

“I just get a little jealous,” he whispered, kissing Trixie’s cheek, “because he always stills when you hold him, and then I’m afraid he loves you more than me.”

“Oh silly man… you want your wife, don’t you?” Trixie quipped, and kissed him.

**Trixie/Shelagh- ' Baby's head is well down, not long now Trixie!'**

_“Baby’s head is well down, not long now Trixie!”_

“God, I hope so,” Trixie moaned, letting her head fall back on the pillow as the contraction waned.

“You’re doing so well,” Shelagh said, patting Trixie’s knee.

“If you told me I’d be here five years ago, I would probably have laughed, because I didn’t want children for a good while yet,” the other woman said.

“If someone had told me five years ago what the coming years would bring, I would have thought them a little mad,” Shelagh confessed.

“But some things never change, do they?” Trixie said, and squeezed Shelagh’s hand, holding on to her dear friend as another contraction rippled through her.

**Barbara/Shelagh/Trixie- The three of them go to a cafe with their children and babies, (Barbara has a 1 year old, Trixie has a two year old and a newborn and Shelagh obviously has teddy) 'We are both so proud of you Trix, I've never known a birth as complicated as yours!'**

**I somehow completely missed this one, anon. Sorry for that!**

_“We are both so proud of you, Trix. I’ve never known a birth as complicated as yours!”_ Barbara said, prying a spoon out of her little girl’s hand.

“I have, but yours was one of the most difficult ones,” Shelagh acquiesced.

“Never again,” Trixie laughed, kissing her boy’s silken head and using her free hand to gently rock the pram that safely cradled her new-born child.

“You know that that’s what all mothers say, and that they then go on to have another,” Barbara said.

“Why, are you trying to tell us something, Barbara?” Shelagh asked, having to break eye contact when Teddy pressed his face against her cheek, giving her a wet kiss.

“Don’t take Tom’s ‘go forth and multiply’ too literally,” Trixie said, causing them all to laugh.


	85. Chapter 85

**Trixie/Christopher/Shelagh/Patrick- Trixie and Christopher bring their new-born baby round to the turners and they have a conversation about parenthood. ‘Patrick lifted the screaming blonde new-born out of his bassinet. “I think I know what he wants Trixie”**

_Patrick lifted the screaming blond new-born out of his bassinet. “I think I know what he wants, Trixie,”_ Patrick said.

Trixie already reached for her child, ready to take him out of the room to feed him, but Patrick held the baby up till he was at face level and gave him a goofy grin.

“You need a bit of Doctor Turner’s special medicine,” he said.

“Patrick, he’s probably just hungry,” Shelagh softly chastised him, unable to keep from smiling.

Patrick wiggled his eyebrows at her, then placed the child in the crook of his elbow and started fiddling with his toes, causing the baby to still immediately.

“Well, I think you must show us how you do that,” Christopher said, taking Trixie’s hand and pulling her down beside him, “because that sure is a wonderful bout of medicine.”

 

**195 and 164- Trixie/Christopher**

**I give you guys 200 prompts and you all pick the smutty ones.**

**195: “ Come here. ”**

_“Come here,”_ Trixie commanded.

Christopher smirked at her, but obeyed without hesitation, taking her outstretched hand in his and stroking her knuckles.

She pulled him down on the bed beside her and brought his face against her throat, prompting him to kiss it.

“I think nursing has left you with an excellent voice for issuing commands,” he whispered, then sucked her skin into his mouth, leaving a soft bruise to flower.

“As if you’d have it any other way, you with your weakness for independent women,” she moaned, hand curling in his hair.

“Right you are,” Christopher said, easing her down so he could give in to all of her demands.

**164: “ Stop teasing me so much… ”**

_“Stop teasing me so much…”_ Christopher whined, stilling her hand.

“But you tease me all the time,” Trixie whispered.

She brought her hands to his face, cupped it, and kissed him as she straddled him.

He moaned, right hand splaying on her lower back, the other curling into the pillow.

“You love my teasing, don’t you?” she said, rocking her hips, ripping another groan from his lips.

“You little trickster,” he said, letting his hand travel from her back to her buttocks, “just you wait till I start teasing you.”


	86. Chapter 86

**Trixie/Christopher- A trip to the zoo with their toddler and newborn twins. ‘Gosh, I didn’t quite expect it to be this busy’, Trixie said, cradling the twins in her arms.**

_“Gosh, I didn’t quite expect it to be this busy,” Trixie said, cradling the twins in her arms._

Christopher took their oldest son in his arms to ensure they wouldn’t lose track of him; he was just a small boy, after all, and could easily get lost in this absolute sea of people.

“We could just go home, Trix,” he said, kissing his child’s forehead.

“But I’ve wanted to see the monkeys for such a long time now!” Trixie pouted.

“We’re the monkeys here, Trixie,” Christopher whispered in her ear, nodding at the young mothers who glanced at the twins, at William’s hair so white it shines like a halo.

“Let’s go and meet our family members, then,” Trixie decided, smirking at him as she balanced the babies in her arms, threading her way through the crowd.

**Trixie and Christopher wake up on the morning after their wedding. ‘Trixie woke up, enveloped in Christopher’s arms, his hands roaming her back’**

_Trixie woke up, enveloped in Christopher’s arms, his hands roaming her back._

“Hm,” she said, smiling against the pillow, taking one of Cristopher’s hands in her own and lacing their fingers together.

“Good morning, Mrs. Dockerill,” Christopher whispered in her ear, causing shivers to hop from vertebrae to vertebrae.

She sat up, cupped his face, and kissed him.

“This seems to be a very good morning indeed,” Christopher grinned, pulling her on his lap.

“I do really like waking up with your arms draped around me,” Trixie confessed, and buried her face in the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent, his warmth, his everything.

**“I’m going to keep you safe.'' Timothy to baby Angela and later to baby Teddy :)**

_“I’m going to keep you safe,”_ Timothy whispered, squeezing Teddy’s toes.

The baby frowned, but didn’t wake, though his hand did close around Timothy’s finger.

“He’s a pretty baby,” Angela decided, taking Timothy’s arm and tucking herself under it.

“Are you an expert on babies, Ange?” Timothy teased.

She looked at him with big blue eyes and shrugged, saying: “I think he’s a pretty baby because he’s my brother and I love my brothers.”

“You’re adorable,” Timothy grinned, and thought, like he’d done many times before: _I’m going to keep you safe._

**72 “They’re going to love you, don’t worry! ”**

_“They’re going to love you, don’t worry,”_ Patrick said, taking Shelagh’s hand and drawing her close so he could embrace her.

“Don’t,” she said, stepping away from him so she could check her elegant up-do in the mirror, touching it with trembling fingers.

“There’s nothing to get so worked up about, darling; they’re just some friends,” he said.

“They’re important to you,” Shelagh said. She smoothed a fold out of the tablecloth, then stared at the cutlery as she worried her bottom lip between her teeth.

“They’re organised like an army, Shelagh. I’ve never seen forks and knives lie so straight. They can march into battle like that and do England proud,” Patrick quipped, tapping one of the soup spoons with his finger.

The worry lines between Shelagh’s eyebrows didn’t disappear, though. “Please don’t touch them,” she softly scolded him, adjusting the spoon a fraction of a millimetre.

Patrick trapped her hand under his. Her fingers startled open. For a moment, he thought she’d pull away. He stroked the skin between her index finger and thumb very gently. “Shelagh, please look at me.”

She raised her eyes so that she could look at him from between her lashes.

“Frank, James, Mary and Josephine are good friends of mine. Of course they’re important to me. They know me. That means that they know I wouldn’t have married you if you weren’t lovely and kind and intelligent. You have nothing to worry about.”

“I just…” She hesitated.

“Yes?” He gave a gentle tug on her hand, causing her to turn to him.

“I just want to do things right. I feel as if… everyone is watching us, Patrick, watching _me._ I know it’s not a charitable thought, but sometimes I think they’d like to see me fail. I know our marriage is a success, but I want others to see that, too.”

“Oh, darling,” Patrick said.

She looked at him, really looked at him, her eyes a little moist. “There’s so much to think about that I can’t help but feel a little overwhelmed sometimes.”

“Then why don’t you ask my help?”

“You already do so much, Patrick. Besides, if I can’t even be a good wife, then…”

 He kissed her softly, then tucked her under his chin, his big hands splaying on her back. “You are everything, Shelagh,” he whispered in her ear.

She held him tight, pressing her nose against his throat. “I love you,” she whispered, voice so soft he’d almost have thought she was simply exhaling if her mouth hadn’t been so close to his ear. “God, how I love you.”

“I love you, too, Shelagh. Who wouldn’t?”

They both startled when the bell rung.

Patrick took three steps in the direction of the front door, then stopped. “Are you coming?”

“Yes.” She smiled at him.

From the corner of his eye he saw that she stretched her hand to adjust a fork, then hesitated and decided to let it be. Patrick grinned.

_They’ll love her._


	87. Christmas Drabbles

 

**Some Christmas drabbles**

1\. “Do you know what I’d like to do?” Patrick whispered in Shelagh’s ear, one hand splaying on her back.

“No, but I have a pretty good idea, dearest,” Shelagh answered, eyes travelling to the little sprig of mistletoe dangling above them.

“Do you?’ he asked, fingers drawing little circles through her skirt.

“Yes.” She cupped his face, gave him a quick peck, and ducked under his arm, into the kitchen.

“That’s not a proper kiss!” Patrick whined.

“I have to prepare dinner,” Shelagh said. Then, taking pity on him, she said, “Just you wait. It isn’t Christmas yet,” and winked.

 

2.  Christmas was both a time of wonder and of exhaustion for Sister Monica Joan. Her knees were not what they used to be, for a start, which almost turned hours of worship and devotion in the chapel into hours of physical torture. Then, of course, there was the carolling, which meant that her sweet sisters had no time to spare for her. Sometimes, she woke from troubling dreams, still hearing the faint swell of voices, still smelling the thick scent of incense, not knowing if these things were real or imagined.

_Is it really Christmas?_ she thought as she made her way to her cell. She was ready to drop. She…

There was a cake tin on her bed. She opened it with trembling fingers, inhaling the heady aroma of cherry slab. She put a piece in her mouth, sighing as taste exploded on her tongue.

“Definitely Christmas,” she mumbled, and curled around her cake she slept, contently as a child.

 

3.  Patrick came awake slowly, feeling Shelagh’s hands on his chest, fingers drawing lazy circles.

“Wake up, dearest,” she whispered, breath ghosting over his ear.

He shivered, then smiled.

“Wake up, Patrick.”

“Hm,” he said, opening his eyes.

“It’s Christmas,” Shelagh continued, punctuating her sentence with a hot, open-mouthed kiss on his cheek, “and I have a present just for you. We must be quick though, before the children wake up and demand gifts.”

“We’ll be quick,” Patrick said. But he contradicted his words and kissed his wife languidly. It was, after all, no more than she deserved.

It was Christmas.

 

4\. Shelagh was putting the last button on the final gingerbread man when Patrick slipped an arm around her waist and pressed a kiss against her flour-dusted neck.

“My, you’ve been… prolific,” he murmured, resting his chin on her shoulder.

“And you’re early, dearest,” she said.

“I didn’t have many patients today. I thought I could help you bake, but you’re all done. The children at the afternoon clinic will be thrilled.” He frowned. “But why are they all men? You can make gingerbread women, too.”

“Don’t worry, Patrick. You are my favourite man of all,” Shelagh said, and kissed him.

 

5\. Patrick did his best to slip into the bedroom without waking either Shelagh or Teddy. He’d put his shoes near the front door so he wouldn’t make a noise going up the stairs, and had undressed in the bathroom. He slid under the covers, wincing as the bedsprings creaked.

Shelagh sighed and rolled towards him. He tucked her under his arm.

“Morning already?” she whispered, eyes closed, an adorable frown between her brows.

“Just past midnight, dearest. Go back to sleep.”

She smiled. “It’s Christmas now. Happy Christmas, Patrick.”

“Happy Christmas, Shelagh,” he said, but she was fast asleep again.

 

6\. “Do you know what my favourite Christmas ornament is?” Shelagh asked as she held up a red bauble to see if it was shiny enough.

“Our nativity set surely scores high,” Patrick said. He patted the china donkey he’d just washed.

“Not it,” Shelagh said.

Patrick frowned. “The paper stars Angela made?”

Shelagh shook her head.

“The star that crowns the tree?”

“No.”

“Then what is?” Patrick asked, turning his face to her.

“Don’t look so exasperated, dearest,” Shelagh laughed. She touched his face.

“What is it?” he asked, smiling.

“Your face bathed in candlelight,” she said, and kissed him.


End file.
